


Elastic Heart

by Klayr_de_Gall



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deadpool being Deadpool, First Meetings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter can hear the boxes, Slow Build, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide Attempt, The boys are idiots, all the feels, not your typical soulmate AU, the boxes are even bigger idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7088344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klayr_de_Gall/pseuds/Klayr_de_Gall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Peter is five, his Aunt May explains it to him like this:</p><p>„Sometimes the hearts and souls of two people are so in sync, that they beat in the same rhythm and hum in the same tune. This Melody will always be in their hearts for them to hear, so they can find each other. They are Soul-mates, Peter. Such a perfect match, the world wants to give them a clue how to find each other.“</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Song I will never sing

**Author's Note:**

> I love Soul-mate AU's and just wanted to make my own!  
> Highly inspired by the post going around all social media about how the song in your head is the song your soulmate is currently singing.
> 
> Garfield-Peter, because that's the only Spidey for me.
> 
> Wade and Peter haven't met in the beginning of the Story and it will probably be a bit of a build. Peter wasn't bitten by that darn Spider yet. I just make the plot up as I go, mostly. Also, I will add more tags and might change the rating sooner or later. If there should be any triggers, I'll make sure to let you guys know!
> 
> Also, still not a native English speaker and still without a beta-reader. I hope it is not too bad...
> 
> Enjoy! <3
> 
> Edit 23.06.2016
> 
> Now betaed by Curious Chloride! Thanks so much!
> 
> Edit 15.03.2017  
> Thanks for a second beta to LeahElizabeth89! <3 <3

When Peter is five, his Aunt May explains it to him like this:

“Sometimes the hearts and souls of two people are so in sync that they beat in the same rhythm, and hum in the same tune. This Melody will always be in their hearts, so they can find each other. They are soulmates, Peter. Such a perfect match, the world wants to give them a clue how to find each other.”

He loves the simplicity of the whole concept. Having someone who complete's you, to accompany you through every stressful, hard and good time of your life. Having someone’s song stuck in his head all the time sounds lovely. At least when the person is supposed to be your other half, you can be sure the music will always be great. (At least, that’s what Peter hopes for. Soulmates had to have the same taste in music, right?) Peter asks his Aunt what her and Uncle Ben's song is. She hums the warm melody for him. The young boy recognizes the song, has heard her sing it countless of times while cooking or cleaning. He tells her he adores it and Aunt May ruffles his hair. Then she goes back to folding laundry. Peter sits at the couch and helps hunting around for the matching pairs of socks.

He never forgets what she told him that day.

-  
-

Just because everyone was supposed to have a soulmate and could hear the same song in their mind as them, didn't mean finding this special someone was easy. Not in a world with a population of over seven billion people. It was rather stressful and kind of a loud business, with people on the streets always humming or singing. Or listening. Always afraid to miss that one chance.

It wasn't such a big deal in Peter’s childhood, because kids would only start to hear 'the song' after puberty. There was no specific date in one’s life when the awareness was supposed to start, but never under the age of ten. So kids could be kids. Playing and enjoying childhood, and not paying any mind to the melodic buzzing that always surrounds them.

But when Peter gets older, the world tilts a bit and priorities slowly change.

MJ informs him one day when he is thirteen that she can hear it now, beaming smile and all. Both of them are sitting on the porch of his aunt and uncle’s house, enjoying the first warm beams of sunlight spring has to offer. She even starts to sing it to him. It is a lovely melody, fragile but strong at the same time. He smiles and hugs her and tells her he is happy for her. And when his voice breaks a bit at the end of the sentence – it’s because it’s that annoying time in a boy’s life, _thank you very much_ – and not because he has a massive crush on the pretty girl he has been friends with since he was eight.

While every one of Peter’s friends starts to hear the song that promises them endless love and understanding, Peter’s own mind stays silent and blank. People start to drift away, concentrating on finding the match for life. One or two of his classmates already have found their soulmate's. And, while they are the people that would associate with someone like him because they aren't looking for their soulmate anymore - they are the ones Peter avoids the most.

He is fifteen now and curls up on his bed every night, envious and oh so lonely.

'I'm weird.' he catches himself thinking more and more, trying to come to terms with it. Maybe his soulmate is gone, and Peter will never hear the song. Maybe he just has to accept it and move on. There are other people like that after all. It is possible to find love without 'the song'.

And then the voices start.

-  
-

Peter is standing in the shower after a long day of school. He is so fucking exhausted he could close his eyes and just sleep right here under the dribble of relaxing hot water. His ribs hurt from the last encounter with Flash Thompson, and he is sure that tomorrow he will have a nice bruise on his hip, where he landed after a particularly hard shove. Peter is just glad it hadn't been his face today.He wouldn't have been able to explain the black eye to Aunt May, again. Or the next pair of broken glasses. 'I walked into a door' only worked so often as an excuse.

He is lathering up his messy hair when -

**We should take the left turn**

Peter stops in confusion, hands still up in his hair, and turns around. Soap is dripping into his eyes and he has to blink rapidly against the burn.

“Uncle Ben? Is that you?”

Cautious, he peeks around the edge of the shower curtain, but no one is in the small bathroom with him. Uncle Ben wouldn't have barged into the bathroom with the water running, and the voice hadn't sounded like him at all, way too deep and rumbling. Peter shrugs slowly and steps back under the warm water. Maybe Aunt May was watching a movie...

_There! THERE! Shoot! Now” Shootshootshoot it~!_

He spins around so fast he nearly slips in the wet bathtub. Struggling for safe footing, Peter wrenches the curtain open, almost tearing it off the hooks. But there is no one there with him even if the voice – shrill and a bit manic this time – had sounded as if the second man was right beside him.

_Did you notice the tit? We scared it too much. Get it! It has the thingy._

Slowly Peter sinks back against the cold tiles, heart in his throat. He tries to press his hands against his ears, but they shake like hell and he just knows that it wouldn't help.

**That wouldn't work. It would fall into the river, Idiot.**

_Idiot!_

His breath comes out in frantic bursts. He squeezes his eyelids shut so hard that lights start to dance behind them. The voices in his head bicker a bit more.

Peter starts screaming at the same time the manic laughing goes off like a shotgun in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this wasn't to bad.  
> Let me know! <3


	2. Time is just a Concept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few things happen in the next months. Peter meets Gwen Stacy. He becomes Spider-Man. And He turns sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, GUY'S!  
> I wasn't expecting such a good reaction about my little brain-meltdown <3  
> I'm just so grateful people like it!  
> Thank's so much for every Kudo and comment and bookmark! I appreciate it a lot! A lot lot!
> 
> Sorry the Chapter isn't beta read. Did the best I could manage. Hope it is okay. Point out any mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy! <3
> 
> **Warning: Mentioning of suicide**
> 
> Edit 24.06.2016  
> Now betaed by Curious Chloride! Thanks so much!
> 
> Edit 21.03.2017  
> All the love for the second beta to LeahElizabeth89!

Even after Uncle Ben had broken down the door to the bathroom and Aunt May had wrapped him into a large green towel, Peter wasn't able to calm down. His whole body was shuddering like he was being electrocuted.

“Peter? Peter, dear, what is wrong?”

_OoooOoh! Look at that pattern. It looks like one of those pictures in the books of the crazy head-doc that tried to kill us once! I know! It’s an elephant!_

**It is blood and brain-matter, actually.**

_Spoilsport!_

“Peter?”

Peter blinks, tries to focus on his Aunt’s concerned face. Then he scrambles to his knees and vomits his dinner into the bathtub.

Aunt May stays with him and rubs his back in a calming manner. It helps a little.

“What is going on, Peter? Please talk to us.”

He glimpses his aunt exchange a look with her husband, and Uncle Ben retreats slowly from the room, heading for the phone that was hanging by the front door.

“No!”

Peter's voice sounds hoarse from the screaming and throwing up french fries. He shakes his head violently. His knuckles turn white with how hard he holds onto the cold edge of the bathtub.

_That one looks like a unicorn!_

“I'm fine... You don't need to call someone, okay? I just... It was a long day and I was so tired I dozed off under the shower, and then the shower curtain clung to my back and... just scared me.”

He hadn't taken a single breath while talking, and was slightly out of air now. And the twin stares of disbelief his aunt and uncle gave him told Peter that they didn't believe him in the slightest. Finally, his uncle sighs and steps away from the phone with a nod.

“Alright. Then you better get some rest, Peter.”

“Thanks Uncle Ben...”

As he slowly comes to his feet with his aunt’s help, and the older woman levels him with one of her stern looks.

“You will tell us what happened in the morning, young man.”

Peter ducks his head. “Yes Aunt May.”

She escorts him to his room. Her concerned looks and fussing telling Peter how not okay she is with letting him out of her sight. Peter can't imagine how she felt, hearing him scream in the bathroom..

_We should have Tacos for dinner. Chimichangas! Chimi~chimichangas!_

**First we have to find the tit and end this.**

_But we are hungry now!_

Aunt May slowly entwines him in one of her warm hugs, snapping Peter out of the internal debate that wasn't meant for him. She smells like apples and herbal tea. She smells like home.

“I'm fine. I promise.” he reassures softly and hugs her back.

Peter sinks on top of his bed, still wrapped in his towel. He had been so out of it that he hadn't even felt embarrassed that his aunt and uncle had found him naked.

The voices in his head were now in a full debate over what to eat for dinner. The shriller one was only screaming CHIMICHANGAS!!! over and over, while the darker voice, the one that sounds a lot saner to Peter, was making actual suggestions where to eat, even if most of it was also some mexican food place.

Peter closes his eyes and tries to zone them out, but that doesn't work very well. He tries to blast his own thoughts over all the talking and that partly works, but is really exhausting. A headache is approaching fast, Peter can feel it.

He does not sleep that night.

-  
-

It takes Peter a week to finally tell the truth to his aunt and uncle. He hasn't slept a proper night’s sleep since the voices started and looks like crap. He can't concentrate on anything and nearly dozes off twice in school today. He is jumpy and nervous, always jumping a little in shock when one of the voices made itself known.

The boy had noticed that they weren't addressing him. (It was clear from the start, but still it took him a bit to realize.) They were mostly murmuring about strange things, making gory comments and dumping reverences to old TV-shows along the way. There were always breaks in between, like there was a third person Peter couldn't hear. He had started to call them Bob and Bill in his head, and oh, what was that saying about his mental stability. (But Bob suited the darker voice well. And Bill went with the theme.)

Of course, Aunt May worries for him and takes him to see a doctor. What is happening to Peter isn't normal. It is pretty uncommon for soulmates to have a song in their head with words in it. But talking voices? That is something absolutely new.

Peter hates all the tests he has to go through and all the cables they stick on him to study him. One of the nurses is showing him one of the Rorschach Inkblot Tests. He nearly throws up when there is one picture that reminds him of an elephant.

Aunt May puts her foot down the moment one of the doctors mentions institutional testing. The look in the scientist’s eye sends a cold shudder running down Peter's spine. This isn't a bad horror-movie, but he can’t shake the feeling that the man wants to look into his brain and doesn't care if Peter is alive when he does it. Peter isn't more than an interesting phenomenon for him – a way to become popular among the other scientists. So he goes home with May and is relieved, even while Bill exclaims that: _Cats are not tasty. Not even grilled._

–  
-

A few things happen in the next months. Peter meets Gwen Stacy. He becomes Spider-Man. And He turns sixteen.

Sometimes Peter thinks Gwen might be the perfect match for him, but she had lost her soulmate two years ago. She never knew him or her. The song just gone quiet. She is absolutely as sane as she is clever, without two voices in her head currently debating if 'Trash Panda' was a word worth putting in the dictionary.

_But 'Trash Panda' is so much better then 'Raccoon'! They are wearing a mask because they are robbing the trash can!_

He tries his best imitation of “Bill the crazy voice”, and he and Gwen topple over with laughter. They're sitting outside of the school in the shadows of an old oak tree, enjoying some time off before the next class starts.

It feels so good to have someone he can talk to about the constant rumbling in his mind. The pretty girl had just raised an eyebrow at him when he had finally spilled the story a few weeks ago. Peter was sure she hadn't believed him, really, but the more he opened up about it, the more convinced she seemed to get. He loved Gwen a lot for not judging him just because he was different.

“Your soulmate seems to be in a good mood today.”

Gwen smiles at him, and Peter hums without actually answering her. There is a reason the voices are talking about trash at the moment. He had learned the hard way that his soulmate was really good at thinking low of himself.

“At least there is no bullet in the head involved. Till now. Counts as kind of good mood.”

, Peter shrugs.

Because that wouldn't be new for Peter.

He has a count-down on his phone now that is named “...Days since the last Brain-Blow-up”. It currently reads 9 days. (Peter knows it should concern him more, but after gaining super strange powers because he got bitten by a radioactive spider, there is not much that can shock him. Now.)

The first time it has happened had been three months ago in history class. His mind had been buzzing with insults so mean, they had made him cringe. He had tried to concentrate on the lecture his teacher was currently giving, drowning out the angry voices. (He had lots of practice by now) It took him a while to notice that something went horribly wrong.

**... not even look ourselves in the eyes. We are a monster. A disease.**

_Do it! You want to! DO IT!!_

Peter paled, taken aback by the amount of venom in both voices.

**Everyone will be glad when we are gone. All we always do is hurt them, making everything worse. We can't save anyone. We don't want to save anyone!**

_Shoot us shoot us SHOOTUSSHO---_

“NO!?”

Peter didn't remember jumping to his feet, but he was standing now, the eyes of the whole class on at him. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears and his rapid heartbeat, but nothing else. His head was silent.

Before the teacher could ask him if he was alright, Peter rushed out of the classroom. Only after he had locked himself in one of the stalls at the boys’ restroom had he broken down crying. He was still crying when Flash and his gang of friends found him. That day Peter took the worst beating of his life, but his brain felt so numb that he didn't register the punches to his ribs and torso.

After it was over, insults like 'Pussy-Parker' and 'Cry-baby' still ringing in his ears, he had rolled up into a tiny ball behind the dumpsters and did nothing but breathe. Slow and shallow.

_Ewww... We hate when that happens. Hurts every time. Mushymushy Brain gooo~_

Peter hiccupped violently.

**Let’s go have Tacos.**

Everything was fine. His soulmate was fine.

–  
-

“Have you ever tried talking back?”, Gwen asks him one day, while sitting at one of the corner tables of their schools’ cafeteria.

Peter raises one eyebrow at her. He knows it looks sassywhen he does it. He had practiced it in front of the mirror.

“You really think I haven't thought of that?”

“Calm down. Sometimes the simple things come to mind last.”

He sighs and flops his arms around a bit, looking like a dying octopus. “I tried that. A lot. A lot lot. But Bob and Bill just talk on. Seems they can't hear me at all. It's frustrating, like talking to the television. At least the comedy channel is on most of the time.”

“Have you tried… you know. Singing?”

Peter blinks. The look he gives the girl is communicating his thoughts quite well: ‘are you crazy?’

“You know what I mean, Peter. ‘The song’? Your own.”

“I don’t have one.”

He was only ever stuck with the voices in his head. Why would he have a song? His soulmate sure as hell didn’t have one. He wouldn’t have missed that in the last ten months Peter was stuck with them. They were loud and sometimes really cruel, making him wish he could be there for this other person to sooth them, but they were never singing something that wasn't some stupid hit from the charts.

“Everyone has one.” she says.

He shrugs helplessly. Gwen- being the angel she is- only squeezes his hand in kind understanding and lets go of the topic, turning to a discussion she had with her dad last night over dinner.

–  
-

Then Uncle Ben dies.

He has to watch helplessly, as his uncle – the one half of his only family – dies in a useless act of violence.

He has to watch how the sparks of life and hope die in his aunt's eyes.

It breaks Peters heart over and over again.

But Gwen's words stay with him through the sad days that follow, echoing in his mind in the early hours of the night, and Peter mulls over them while he pulls the red Spandex mask over his face and becomes Spider-Man.

–  
-

After patrolling Queens for a few hours Spider-Man settles down at one of his favorite rooftops and looks out over New York. After a moment, Peter pulls the mask from his face. His life has taken some really strange and hurtful turns in the last few years, but at a peaceful moment like this, with the fresh air of the night cooling his face and a breeze ruffling his messy hair, Peter likes his life.

Not even the voices can change that.

_Head-shoot! Head-shoot! Ewww! EEG-SHOOT!_

… Not entirely.

The young man sighs and puts his chin on his up-drawn knee. Now that he has become Spider-Man, finding his soulmate shouldn't be too hard. Whoever it is, obviously kills a lot. And throwing some kind of healing factor - way better then Peters own -and more than a bit of crazy into the mix... Not many people in the world would fit this description. Also, he is pretty sure the person is male. Bill and Bob wouldn't fit a woman's mind. Not that Peter knows a lot about this, but there is also a fair lot of talk about dick-sizes and banging this girl or that (too much for his comfort). The phrase 'We have to act like a grown up man now' has also fallen a few times.

For eighteen years he might handle being an experienced spider-themed superhero, but Peter isn't sure he will ever come to terms with the fact that the universe thinks a crazy killer is the perfect match for him. The whole soulmate business could have made a mistake here. What if Peter is suffering through this taste of insanity for nothing? What if this killer - his soulmate turns out to be someone Peter can't stand? Even normal bad always set off his spider sense, not to mention his own morals. Killing is wrong. This man is wrong. He is crazy and dangerous.

But maybe he can change?

His soul-mate seems so lost in darkness and violence. Such a stark contrast to himself. But Peter strongly believes that everyone can be saved. He has to.

_We should tooooootally dress up our grenades as pineapples! No one would see THAT coming!_

**That doesn't make sense. Not even for us.**

_That's what makes it the perfect plan!_

Peter closes his eyes and smiles against the blue spandex covering his knee. It was roughly three years that he was stuck with all the crazy in his head. Sometimes he wishes Bob and Bill would talk to him as well. It wouldn't feel as lonely that way.

Idly humming to himself, Peter listens to the conversation that had turned toward the pros and cons of climbing an electrical fence. Then the voices shut up mid-sentence. Mere moments later, Peter is alone in his head. A pigeon looks at him a bit funny when the young man sighs with a lot of drama and pulls his phone from the hidden pocket of his suit.

“0 Days since the last Brain-Blow-up”

-  
-

Somewhere in Namibia, Wade Wilson – in the procress of blowing up a drug cartel - suffers a very nasty death through an overenthusiastic machine-gun, while an unfamiliar voice was humming a song in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pewww.  
> Wasn't planing to make this chapter that long, but it didn't feel fitting to end it earlier.  
> Chapter three and four as already loosely planed out. Wade POV ahead!
> 
> I hope you liked it that fare.  
> Thanks so much for reading!


	3. Past and Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he is five no one takes the time to explain to Wade what it meant to have a soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!
> 
> There is a little time-line mambo jambo in this one. But Wade deserves his own introduction in all his glory. Just an itsy bitsy bit of Peter in this Chapter.
> 
>    
>  **Warning:not beta-read, Fandom typical violence, mentioning of child abuse. Mentioning of torture**
> 
> Edit 24.03.2017  
> Thanks for the amazing beta to LeahElizabeth89!

When he is five no one takes the time to explain to Wade what it meant to have a soulmate. Or when he was seven. Or ten. He has no idea that there is a person that will wait for him and hope to meet him one day, that longs to know him and will be able to understand him, a person that will love him.

When his mother takes note of him at all, it's to tell him that he is a mistake. A greedy parasite that makes her life horrible with every word, and that drinking is the only thing that helps her cope with the misery. That he is the reason his father is an cruel, violent asshole, beating both his son and his wife.

Wade Wilson grows up unwanted and unseen, with bruises all over his young body and soul, despised, hated. All the pain makes the boy turn away from the concept of having another half. How could someone ever want him? Was the universe really that cruel to match him to some poor human being, broken as he was? He can't believe that unconditional love is something that is meant for him. Someone as unwanted as him would never hear 'the song', he was sure.

So, when the song starts when he is thirteen, the blond boy curls up under his bed and stays there for two days. No one cares. No one notices. He feels shell-shocked, and hurt, and a bit hopeful. He lies there, muffling his erratic breathing and his little sobs in his old pillow and aches for this person he never met. Maybe never will. Wade has never experienced being wanted and knows that hoping might make him weak

Three days later his father nearly punches his skull in, because he catches his son humming that song the fate gave to him. Wade learns that day that he isn't allowed to have hope.

-  
-

As soon as he is legally allowed (eight months earlier, but who' counting) Wade joins the Army. He would just have done anything to get away from this hell that is his life. Military duty pays good money and gives him something to concentrate on. He never looks back. Not once.

His superiors see potential in Wade and puts it to great use. He is skilled in hand-to-hand combat and nearly outguns everyone with a rifle. 

The boy becomes a man shortly after turning eighteen. There is a dead man lying at his feet, bleeding from his open mouth and the stab wounds in his abdomen. It's his first kill. Blood is splattered all over his face and clothes. Wade has stopped humming long ago.

Army years fly by fast, so do all the times he kills on orders. But Wade was never one to follow an idiot blindly into a battle just because the man was higher ranged than him. It wasn't his style, fighting for some fat assholes, so he drops out at twenty to make a name for himself.

Killing people is easy, he loves it. Combining his profession with his hobbies is just common sense. It's a nice reason to become a mercenary, he sometimes has to pat himself on the back for how clever he is.

Also he's a bit crazy, but that's just part of his charm.

-  
-

He meets Vanessa.

-  
-

He is diagnosed with cancer.

-  
-

He takes part in the Weapon-X program.

-  
-

Nothing has been the same ever since.

Life has fucked him over again. Giving him love and making him lose it the moment he needed it the most. No way he could have stayed with Vanessa. He it's a good person and he has no right to drag someone down with him. Life is making his remaining months on earth a living from the cancer cells taking over his body. The pain of his broken heart is a small price, compared to how his love would have to suffer with him, loosing him in the end anyway.

But none of this compares to the hell that is the weapon-x program. The eager scientists break him more times then Wade thought was ever possible. It was supposed to be a new chance – a new beginning, but it makes Wade long for his death. For the freedom of taking his last breath and closing his burning eyes. Dying sounds easy. Everything would be over. He would be finally free.

When he wakes up somewhere in a fucking jungle, naked except for the blood on his hands and the scars all over his body, and so much pain... What else was there to do but walk away?

He has lived through this. He can live through anything else now. Not that he has much of a chance, dying isn't an option anymore. Healing factor and all.

-  
-

Wade Wilson becomes Deadpool. And Deadpool becomes an world-class mercenary in the blink of an eye. Crazy and loud as he is, with two cocky voices in his head he's till the most dangerous guy around. He talks more to the boxes than to anybody else, because they get him and it doesn't feel as lonely.

He does what he's paid for. And he doesn't ask questions.

When Wade is in a bad mood, he sits in a public spot – red and black suit always the causeof strange looks – and shoots the people who hum the loudest. They are so desperate in their search for their fucking soulmate it makes him gag. He can't stand it. It's utter bullshit. Happiness is just a concept made up by the fucking media. Or something.

_Oh. Ohhhhh! Over there!_

Wade follows the mental nudge and looks closer at a woman – mid-twenties, blond hair, _nice boobies_ – sitting at the fountain a few meters away from him. A man has stopped in his tracks beside her.

**Did they just find each-other?**

_She is crying now. The ugly-cry. That's... disgusting._

“I know, right? Slobbering snot all over his shirt. Best way to start a date,” Wade snickers.

The man and the woman had embraced, sobbing like little kids.

Muttering in disgust Wade throws the last bit of his burrito into his mouth and rises his semi-automatic. He feels generous today, so he won't shoot these idiots. So he nudges the gun under his own chin, feeling the cold metal.

**That will get blood in the fountain.**

_One way to ruin a date!!!_

He laughs hysterically before his brain explodes through the back of his head.

-  
-

Peter jolts awake from his mid-day nap on the roof of his Aunts house and nearly falls down. 'Asshole,' he thinks and updates his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> It means hell'a lot to me! <3  
> Let me know what you think.  
> Next Chapter will also be from Wades POV, but with much more Peter!


	4. Magnetised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?”, says Spider-Man.
> 
> “What? Guuuuargs!!!”, says Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems I'm pretty bad with the update-once-a-week concept. So, have a new chapter! ♥  
> Had some trouble with this one because I wasn't sure how I wanted it to go. In the end it wrote itself. Hope it is enjoyable!  
> Also there is a general plot sketched out! The story will have ten chapters! Maybe one more. We will see.
> 
> The title of this chapter is a really bad pun I don't expect anyone to get. XD
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING: Animal abuse, Typical violence, Semi-graphic gore, Deadpool being Deadpool**
> 
> Edit 24.03.2017  
> All the love for the beta to LeahElizabeth89!

**What are you doing, Maroon?**

"Shadap.“ Wade hisses.

**Blowing up a building we're still in... weren't we over that phase? No fun at all. ******

********

The Merc rolls his eyes while he ducks away behind some old barrels to put the bomb securely in place. He's in an old warehouse at the moment, sneaking around to find the boss of a certain familiar slice of hell.

"Ya don't say, dipshit. Ya have no idea what I'm planing. Just lemme do my work.“

A few security guards walk past him without noticing. You would think a six foot-something guy currently stuck in a potato-sack for disguise would draw more attention, but no. It's called "disguise" for a reason.

**We know what you're planing.**

_We're in your head, dude._

Satisfied with how the timer flashes 00:30:00:00 in pretty red numbers, Wade hit the 'Start' button before he sprints down the metal stairway, beheading the two guards on his way down. While his main goal still is hiding somewhere in the office at the back of the warehouse, there is no way Deadpool could leave this building with the walls standing.

“Standards, for fucking sake. Standards!” he mutters to himself, rounding a corner and throwing a grenade into a group of confused lab-coats one level below, currently staring into a cage full of blood. “Fucking standards! You don't do that to animals!”

He couldn't care less if the drugs they were producing here were some kind of WMD, but the way these scientists were testing them on helpless animals, partly crippled or disfigured from the abuse, little living body cut open... Deadpool could not just walk away from this. Only un-aliving José Fernandez – the boss of the Namibian underground drug cartel – wouldn't do the trick here. 

“Can't just leave them!”

**That's not what fills our fridge with tacos.**

The White Box sounds as reasonable as always, not that Wade ever listens.

“But I can reward myself with ten tacos for doing something good.”

_And blowing something up is fun!_

“Exactly!”

Full speed Wade crashes through the one-way-mirror on the end of the hall, guns drawn. Three bullets hit him before the last of the eight men protecting the room, topples to the ground. Fernandez stares at the mercenary with only mild horror. He seems in shock, pale as a ghost.

“... we could talk,” says the man in a soft whisper.

“Sorry buddy! Won't do!”

Deadpool draws his sword and brings it down, effectively severing the man's outstretched hand. Whatever his client wants with a fucking dead hand is beyond him, but it's specifically part of the contract that he had to bring a hand, or he wouldn't get paid.

“Thanks for the business! No hard feeling's,” Deadpool chirps as he injects some dubious shit he found in the lab earlier into the mans neck. If the drug is good enough for a nice fluffy bunny, it's good enough for that asswipe.

“Oh, wait! ALL THE HARD FEELINNGS!”

The drug lord gets even paler and sinks to the ground. No need to finish him. He'll bleed out if the drug doesn't finish him first. Snickering to himself Wade curls the dead hand into a loose fist. As soon as it will get cold like that, at least his client can have a bit fun with it.

_We are so funny._

“Its just practical thinking.”

Leaving the office through the door, he plucks some grenades out of his many pouches to make some space for the wank-hand.

While the boxes get into adiscussion about perfect costumes for bombshells, Wade draws his gun again, aiming to un-alive the guy readying the machine-gun across the warehouse. Before he does, he hears a soft voice in his head humming a long forgotten melody that hits him harder then the bullets that riddle his body mere seconds later.

There isn't much in this world that gets the Merc with a Mouth to his knees in speechless shock.

'Oh.' is his last coherent thought before his brain is turned into a pottery strainer, but its okay. Five minutes later, the warehouse blows up anyway.

-  
-

The way back to New York is kind of blurry. There's this thing with him and not keeping track of time and dates. His brain is just very occupied with other things, most days he can't remember what he had for lunch much less what day of the week it is. (Guess what, eight times out of ten it's tacos)

Wade only knows that he won't be paid for the job. The jerk-hand had burned to ashes together with the Merc and the rest of the warehouse. His skin is still feeling tender from the intense healing session, due to his soulmate's great timing.

Thanks a lot, unknown dipshit.

And HOOOOLY FucK with a stick... Soulmate!

Wasn't that a surprise. He had long forgotten to even want one. Endless love and understanding... Poor fucker was at the end of this line.

“Maybe it was just some hallucination...?”

_Like the one time we hallucinated that Cable was wearing a pink petticoat?_

**... That was no hallucination.**

Wade hums noncommittally. He isn't very sure about that incident, Cable had skipped place and probably time the one time he had dared to ask afterwards.

**No one could ever love us.**

“No one has to.” Wade hisses at White box, struggling with the lock of his door. He tries to be patient - _”No paycheck, remember?”_ \- but in the end he shoots that damn thing. Keys are for losers.

He sheds the clothes he had lifted from a run-down shop in Windhoek on his way in. They are even too cheep to steal and itch on his irritated skin. Making a beeline for his ratty couch, Wade faceplants on it. He is a bit bitter about the fuck-up, but irritation at the boxes is over-shadowing that big time. They can't shut up about that new turn of events.

_I can see us riding on a unicorn into the sunset. With our soulmate!_

**Flowing blond hair.**

“You can't know he's blonde.”

Wade flings an arm over his eyes and tries to breathe. The voice had sounded nice. Soft, calm, and definitely male.

**I was talking about our hair.**

That sets Yellow into a fit of hysterical giggles. Both boxes are such assholes. They're even proud of it, as they're have told him countless times.

Wade gives up on trying to use his thumb and forefinger to rub out his throbbing eyes and sighs. He can't even remember when he had last thought about having a soulmate. He had stopped hoping for on long before Weapon-X. He was no match for anyone, who would want him? The words of that woman he once loved are long faded. Words of love and longing, understanding and forgiveness. Vanessa had loved him, and he had left her nonetheless. 

“I'm to broken for this...”

The only reason his eyes sting so much is because he had rubbed them, he tells himself.

_Maybe we won't be that broken anymore after we find him._

**Maybe he's the missing piece.**

-  
-

Business is slow the next few weeks, so Wade stays at home. He decides his apartment needs some redecoration and blows up the doorway between his kitchen and the livingroom. The old lady three doors down comes to investigate, and makes him do the same to her place, because apparently 'It adds to the charm and brings in more light.' Whatever. Blowing things up is fun. He can't hear the fucking song over all the noise.

The apple pie she gives him for his efforts and his help cleaning out the rubble, gets him through two more days before he has to face the outside world.

_Hungry! Foooooooooooood! NownownOWNOW!_

**He can't hear us over the rumbling of his stomach.**

_OR SO HE WISHES!!!!_

Wade mutters to himself, drawing some strange looks from the people around him. Most look away once they set eyes on him, and he wishes he hadn't left the apartment without the suit. Or a mask, at least, to cover up his face. He can only pull the hood deeper over his face and hurry along. 

“Fuck you fucking Spandex-guy for taking so fucking long.”

**It's our own fault for waiting to order till the last suit is ruined.**

Rolling his eyes, the not-merc-at-the-moment proceeds his way down the street. His destination is his favorite neighborhood Taco Bell. 

But before he can reach the building a taxi explodes on the other side of the street. People near run screaming, while everyone more then a few feet away get out their phones. But No-one is trying to help the old fart currently stuck in the car that had just started to burn a moment ago. Something was moving in the hole in the ground where the hood of the yellow car had been.

“Fuck you, New York!”, Wade utters with a lot of feelings.

_There goes our food-date..._

Wade is halfway across the street when a man in red and blue drops down from the fucking sky. Mr. Spandex rips the bent cardoor away effortlessly and pulls the unconscious driver out of the burning car

“Fuck me, New York.”

**It's Spider-Man.**

_Daaaaaamn! Look at that ass! Would tap that!_

The fucking octupus-arm-armed robot that chooses this exact moment to leap from the hole in the ground draws Wades whole attention in the next second because it runs him through with a metallic claw. Fucking Spider-Man just stands there, looking around all bug-eyed

Just his freaking luck that he hadn't brought his swords today. Only in crazy ol' New York would a guy need swords to get some chimichangas.

“Oi! Spidey! I'm all for penetration, but wouldn't mind if you lent me a hand here!”

_He could lend us a hand later, too!_

“What?” says Spider-Man.

“What? Guuuuargs!!!” says Wade while the metal tentacle flings him across the street into a flower-shop-window. 

He emerges a few moments later, glass shards stuck in his back, guns drawn and his favorite hoodie in pieces. There are flowers everywhere.

**The daisies are a nice touch.**

_No better way to have a shoot-off than in our prettiest outfit!_

Spider-Man stops mid-blow to look in Wade's direction and is smacked into a street sign for his trouble. Whatever is wrong with the spider-boy, he should get over it soon. There is a metal-claw going in for Spidey's throat, but Wade shoots it with deadly precision. Then they're off in a whirlwind of gunfire and webs, tentacles whipping everywhere. It is pure ecstasy.

The robot seems to be some reconstruction of Doc Ock himself, but without a human brain, it's easy to take down. Wade takes the damage, while Spider-Boy whisks idiotic bystanders to safety. The merc can't remember ever working in sync with someone so perfectly. 

**Not that we work with someone often.**

_But Teamups are great!_

Spider-Man turns to look at him.

“That's not a TeamUp.”

Oopse. Had he said that one out loud? He jumps forward and saves the hero from a last attempt from the machine, taking the claw into his shoulder without a blink.

_A date then?!_

Wade rips at the octopus-arm and the robot goes down in sparks.

“Awww. You could have bought me flowers at least, baby-boy!”

The long and hard look Spider-Man gives him lets Wade wonder a moment if the hero isn't as fun as he always had seemed to be on TV, then the Merc is picked up with super-strength - _”Hot!”_ \- and thrown over a shoulder - **"Not so hot.”** , _"But look at that ass!"_ \- and nearly dropped - _”Really not hot.”_ Spider-Man sets him down on a roof a few minutes later, out of sight of the battle field.

“Who are you?”

Wade wishes for his mask again. The look the spider-human gives him is far to piercing for his comfort

“Oh, Don't you enjoy a little mystery, Baby-boy? I'm just a fan.”

_Fan of that ass in spandex!_

The hero curses softly and begins to pace in front of him. He even has his hands on his head and would be ruffling his hair if it wasn't for his mask. It makes Wade wonder what color his hair is.

_If that isn't a picture of mental instability, I don't know what is._

“I'm not insane!” the man snaps. He sounds so young that it takes a moment of wondering how old Spider-Man really is, till Wade registers what his new friend just said. He's fairly sure he didn't say that one out loud.

“...I didn't say that, Spidey.”

“Bill did.”

Spider-Man freezes up the moment the words are out of his mouth. He looks shocked, but only half as shocked as Wade feels at the moment.

“What?”

“You know... the crazy voice...”

“You can hear the boxes?”

_My name is Bill now? Cooooool!_

“What fucked up joke is that? You have some second mutation, Spider-Baby? Able to read minds?”

He can't remember making the decision, but his gun is now in his hand and aimed at Spider-Man's head.

“N-no!” The spider themed hero holds up both hands. “Listens... this might sound crazy, but I'm your... it seems... we're soulmates. I can hear the voices... the boxes? I can proof this, okay? There is the song and... pleasedon'tshoot?”

He starts to hum Wade's fucking song while reaching for his own mask with a shaky hand.

Wade panics. So Wade does the only thing he's good at. He pulls the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff-hanger. <3  
> Penny for your thoughts!


	5. Day one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You know what's supposed to be clever, too? Dolphins._ Bill chirps in but gets mostly ignored.
> 
>  
> 
> **Dolphins are too stupid to know that they're mammals. They think they're fish.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.  
> And finally, both Idiots are in the chapter together! YAY.
> 
> Let me know what you think! <3
> 
> If you want to sey hey, drop by on tumblr (klayr-de-gall). Or watch me struggle putting together a deadpool-cosplay on FB (Klayr de Gall Cosplay)!
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: Not Beta-read. Mentioning of suicide. Idiots. Wade is a emotional whip-lash.**
> 
> Edit 01.04.2017  
> All the love for the beta to LeahElizabeth89!

The smell of blood and stale food wafts into his nose. Sweat mixed with old beer and even older unwashed socks. It makes his nose twitch.

When Peter drifts to awareness slowly, he isn't sure how much time has passed. His whole body aches and he feels drained and nauseous. His spider-senses are oddly serene but goose bumps are prickling all over his skin, making him aware of eyes lingering on his body. Maybe everything will just go away if he lets his eyes stay closed and pretends to be still asleep...

_Isn't that cute? Playing dead._

**Like we couldn't tell.**

Waking up to the voices talking some nonsense in his head isn't anything new.

“But we can.”

The third voice is a soft, dark rumble and Peters eyes are suddenly wide open. He jolts upright, then topples over with a groan. The throbbing pain from before is now screaming at him, and his right shoulder feels like it's on fire.

“That was a stupid move now, Spidey.”

**Aren't spiders supposed to be smart?**

Peter is eased back down by a big, warm hand cupping his unharmed shoulder. His shoulder looks scrawny against that wide palm, but the touch is surprisingly gentle. These are the hands of a killer, he has to remind himself. The hands of a man that he had witnessed killing countless of times.

The stranger is sitting beside him. Peter notes just now that he is laid out on a ratty and dubiously stained mattress, some springs are digging into his sore muscles. The other man sits cross-legged on the even filthier floor, sword resting against his arm. He is wearing worn pants, a red hoodie and...

“Why are you wearing a paper-mask? Did you make that yourself?”

 _You know what's supposed to be clever, too? Dolphins._ Bill chirps in but gets mostly ignored.

“Yup. It's a nice one. I'm pretty proud!”

Peter blinks twice. “Paper-plate with holes in it...”

The creepy round mask doesn't give away much but Peter is sure the other man is grinning like a lunatic. 

**Dolphins are to stupid too know that they're mammals. They think they're fish.**

“Why are you... ouw.”

Moving his arm hurts like a bitch and he curls it protectively against his body. If the man – his soulmate – notices, he doesn't react to this display of distrust.

“Don't ya worry your pretty little brain, Sweetums! It's all taken care of~”

The suit at Peter's shoulder is cut away and the bulletwound is expertly bandaged. The rest of his suit is mostly intact, except of a few cuts here and there where the robo-octo had got a hit in. Even his mask is still in one piece. He reaches for its seam but a leather-covered hand flies out and stops him. being as weak as he is, he can't put up much of a fight.

“You... shot me.”

Peter remembers the terror in the man's scarred face. He also remembers that face, so the mask is really unnecessary.

“Reeeeeeally sorry for that, Baby Boy. Just a flesh-wound, so don't be too mad?”

The young man can't really process what to feel. Of all scenarios he had created over the years, about finally finding his soulmate - fighting mechanic tentacles together never crossed his mind, unlike getting shot by the man.

_Dolphins are smart! Remember 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'?_

“OH! I love that song!”

Taken aback how the man – who sounds a lot older than him – starts to talk to the voices he hadn't acknowledged mere moments ago, Peter can only blink. His mind suddenly fills all the gaps in every discussion he's ever heard the boxes have with that deep voice. The words aren't important, but the sound is. It feels right.

“The world's about to be destroyed~”

**There's no point getting all annoyed**

_Lie back and let the planet dissolve around you!!_

While the voices... the boxes and his soulmate start with a long string of “So long, So long, SO LONG!!” in terrible off-key voices, Peter curls around the bloodied pillow and fades out. 

He hides his little smile in the fabric.

-  
-

The next time Peter wakes up, he's alone in the room. It's hard to tell if it's late at might or early in the morning by the light filtering through the dirty window. Someone is clattering away in another part of the apartment. 

Sitting up slowly hurts a lot, panting as he leans against the wall, he thinks 'the song' as loud as he can, and hears the crashing of tableware and the loud curse with satisfaction. The asshole shot him! He deserves a few cuts.

_Our Bedroom-Spider is awake!_

**We should go investigate.**

Whatever the answer to that is, even Peters super hearing can't pick it up over more clattering. But no one comes into the room in the next moments, so it might be safe to assume the answer was negative.

Peter sighs and lets his eyes wander. The room isn't big, with bare brick walls and sparse furniture. There's a closet. The half-filled sex-doll in the corner rises to many questions, so he ignores it completely and gets slowly to his feet. The floor is littered with trash, knives, old magazines,guns, beer cans and half empty-plates.

Probably not the most sterile surroundings he could find himself in while sporting a bullet wound, but that the bandage is still a crisp white, so Peter doesn't freak out too much.

After the room had stops spinning, he makes his way to the window. Maybe he should just leave. He has his suit, and his web-shooters are still strapped to his wrists. It would be easy, and Peter isn't sure that he's ready to face his other half. If this place tells him anything about the man, then that his soulmate is better left alone or in prison.

But what if this is his only chance at happiness? Peter wants to believe that. The universe matched them together for a reason.His soulmate had been nice to him so far, bullet in the shoulder aside. The young man gets his head behind the other mans panic reflex to just pill the trigger. And his healing factor will take care of it in a few days.

Peter debates with himself, then turns back and opens the closet. His Spider-Man suit is covered in patches of dried blood, oil stains and has far too many holes to feel comfortable.

He has to search and an alarming amount of grenades roll out of the closet, but he finally finds an old shirt that doesn't smell like it hasn't seen the inside of a washing machine for years. That has to do it. Peter admires the faded RENT-logo and runs his hand over the soft and well worn fabric, and decides he will steal this shirt. It will look good with a white sweater underneath.

Finding pants is easy because they are all dirty and too wide for his narrow waist, so he snatches a pair of sweatpants and pulls the cord tight. Taking one last breath, Peter emerges from the room.

The rest of the flat is in the same state of mess. There are some boxes lying around that are ripped open, revealing packs of clothing in them. He knocks an old bottle over on purpose, alerting the other man to his presence. His soulmate emerges from the next room – the kitchen- he assumes, and Peter's jaw hits the ground. Hard.

The man is wearing an extremely form-fitting red and black body-suit, complete with mask. There are no weapons on him that Peter can see, but he looks dangerous and intimidating. The pink, frilly apron he's wearing over it should look stupid, but it does nothing to refute the first impression. The man is all hard muscles, taller than Peter and outweighs him. The man behind the mask he had seen fighting on the streets - the man that had looked at him with so much shock and confusion - the man that isn't wearing a silly paper-plate-mask anymore...

“You... are Deadpool.”

_Awwww! Spidey's heard of us!_

The Merc looks at him and pauses a moment when he sees the shirt.

“Aem... I'm.... it's nice to... my name-” Peter stops talking, hand raised halfway to pull off his mask, because there is a gun pointed at his face. Again.

“No names. And no faces.” The serious tone in Deadpools voice sends a trill down Peters spine.

“... why?”

“Masks are my fetish!”

**And anonymity.**

_And guns!!_

The older man looks at the gun in his hand and throws it on the table with an noise of disgust. He doesn't even flinch when it goes off, while Peter nearly ends up on the ceiling. He stares at the hole in the naked brick wall as the Merc goes back into the kitchen.

“I already saw your face. And I know your name, you know that, right?” Peter follows him. There's a delicious smell coming from inside the room and he is reminded that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Whenever that had been.

“Yeah. Should I be impressed that you know how to use Google?”

_Maybe he uses Bing._

Deadpool snickers and fetches a plate – that looks clean – and loads it with the best looking pancakes Peter has ever seen. They 're making his stomach rumble, and he's so embarrassed that he even forgets to retort with a witty comeback.

“Hungry, Spider-kiddo?”

The Merc puts the plate down, prepares his own, then sprawls out at the kitchen table, legs spread wide.

“Sit! Eat! Don't gimme that look. Not poisoned, promise.”

**If we wanted him dead we had enough chances.**

Peter sits down.

_But we would never want him death. He is ours._

Deadpool shushs the voices and Peter is grateful that his mask is still covering his ears, even after he had pulled it up enough to reveal his mouth. The pancakes are really good. He eats three before trying any form of conversation. The older man hasn't touched his plate.

“Why's there a hole in the wall where the door was?”

“I put it there. Redecorating.”

**Brings in more light.**

Peter nods. “It definitely does.” He registers the look of confusion the older man communicates clearly through the mask. “I mean, bring in more light.”

There's a long pause.

“So you really can hear the boxes?”

Peter nods. “Yeah... I'm not psychic or anything... it's just them. I only hear them.”

_Poor dude._

“Others got their song and I got Bob and Bill at fifteen..”

All three of the... beings currently listening to him start to snicker and to giggle at that and Peter eats half of another pancake before Deadpool quiets down.

**We aren't the only one that's messed up.**

“Yup. Tell me about messed up. The universe is a dick.”, mutters the Merc. “Prove it. Repeat what they say.”

_I save little kittens in my free-time._

Peter repeats that.

**Cable was the first man on the moon.**

Peter repeats that.

_I love your dick and can't wait until you fuck me with it._

Peter flushes bright red down to his neck and pulls the mask down in a rush.

Deadpool laughs out in delight, sending his plate skittering to the ground in his hysteria. He even mimics wiping at his masked eyes and the spider-human trying to kick him under the table seems to make it even worse. The boxes are snickering too.

“Stop laughing, Asshole.”

“Can't help it, baby boy. You have the most adorable blush I've ever seen.”

It takes a few more glares to sober the Merc up, then he abruptly goes quiet and stands up. He sighs and rolls his shoulders. It's hard to tell through the red of the mask, but his lips seem to be in a tight line now.

Peter rises with him. The behavior is alarming.

“Even if I would love to follow through with the fucking part, I'm afraid you have to go, Spidey.”

He claps Peter's shoulder and directs him forcefully out of the kitchen. The young man isn't fighting back, too stunned by the sudden mood swing to react.

“Hey! No! I want to talk. We're soulmates.”

“That's the point.”

When Deadpool pushes him through the door of his apartment, Peter tries to get a good grip on the door frame. Even with his super strength it's a bit of a struggle, and the Merc growls. Peter's Spider-senses start to tingle, but then the other man pulls back abruptly, leaving only his fist balled up in the black fabric of the shirt Spider-Man is currently wearing over his suit. Holding him close and trying to push him away at the same timeand Peter's skin burns where he had been touched.

“Listen good, baby-boy, the whole soulmate shit isn't going to happen. I'm no team player, and that's better for everyone involved. I'm dangerous.”

“I am dangerous too.”

“Oh please.” Deadpool pulls him closer for a moment, their noses nearly touching. “You're just a kid in a spandex suit. That thing isn't even bullet-proof. You're just stupid. And sticky.”

That stings enough to make Peter stumble back and the door is closes on his face.

_Open the door, IDIOT!_

“No.” says Deadpool.

**But we want to fall in love with him.**

Peter hears the voice on the other side of the door. The sadness in it is heartbreaking. “We can't.”

-  
-

Peter climbs in through the window of his room while the sun rises outside. His body is sore and hurts in all the wrong places. His heart isn't far behind. Getting shoot and rejected by your soulmate is really a lot to handle for one day. Even the boxes are quite. If he has to guess, he'd say that Deadpool had killed himself again. And **that** thought really did hurt.

All he wants to do is sleep, but after cleaning himself up and putting the ruined suit away, Peter finds himself behind his computer, pulling up anything he can find about 'the Merc with a Mouth'.

Huddling deeper into the borrowed black shirt smelling faintly of mexican food, the young man starts to read.

-  
-

Spider-Man and Deadpool won't cross paths again for nearly eight months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a ride! Comments are always welcome!  
> And if you want to see the infamous RENT-Shirt, here you go: http://suhoschanyeol.tumblr.com/post/145009383002/wade-the-rent-shirt


	6. Someone loves us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just ignore him, Bub.” were Logan’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say THANK YOU often enough! It still blows my mind away how much love this fan fiction receives! Thank you Thank you Thank you! ♥♥♥
> 
> I hope you like that chapter as well.  
> Much feels again!
> 
> Short note about the events (without spoiling the chapter). The "how" is the same, canon-wise, but not the "when". Peter is already older here. Well it is a fan fiction... just don't rip my head off for it?
> 
> Betaed by Curious Chloride! Thanks so much!
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: Character dead. Pining.**
> 
> Edit 10.04.2017  
> All the love for the beta to LeahElizabeth89!

Peter spends the next three months researching and constantly wondering where Deadpool had disappeared to. The man – Wade Wilson, he had learned from snooping around at the Avengers – is certainly not hiding at his apartment. Peter has checked. More than once.

The boxes are as unhelpful as they’ve ever been, not giving away much about the current location of their host. Even if they would, Peter isn’t too sure what he would do with the information. His soulmate had been really clear about them not being anything to each other. Maybe Wade was right, and staying away from the other man is the best decision. They're certainly as different as two people can be.

“He is irresponsible and unstable.” Captain America told him.

“Deadpool is a gun for hire without any boundaries or sense of right and wrong.” had been Clint’s take, but with surprisingly less bite then the others.

“Just ignore him, Bub.” was Logan’s advice.

“Fucking crazy shit.” was all Iron Man had to say.

The team had even gone so far as to hand him a list of all the kills that Deadpool had performed over the years. A rather impressive list, one that left his stomach in knots for days. Those were just the ones S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about. Peter had looked up the names on the list. The dead people were mostly bad men, but that isn’t helping much to ease his guilt.

Still,he and Wade are soulmates. There has to be a reason for that. The young man isn’t ready to blindly believe everything the others tell him. His aunt had raised him to be a better man, who wouldn’t judge, and it was hard to believe that Wade was only driven by bad motivations.

As annoying as the boxes could be, they remain a constant reminder of the person behind the list of names. A reminder of the self-hatred and the loathing. All the dark thoughts and guilt that is often at the center of all the teasing and bickering. The silence that follows nearly every time breaks Peter's heart, over and over again. How bad can Wade be, when he's killing himself over and over, for his past mistakes?

That is what Peter thinks about when he's swinging through New York or sitting on a rooftop, watching the city at night.

Sometimes a little smile plays over his lips, because he can hear the boxes chattering away in his head. They get excited every time he hums at them a bit.

And he knows, somewhere in the world, Wade is alive and is reminded that he is not alone.

-  
-

Gwen is dead.

Gwen is dead and it's his fault.

And Harry had turned into something crazy. His soul grew so ugly and filled with hate, because Peter hadn’t been able to help him. It would be easy to put the blame on his friend, for not wanting to listen and going insane, but that would be too easy. And wrong. It was Peter's fault, for pulling her into this, for not getting her out of his dangerous life, when he had the chance. He should have let her go to Oxford…

But instead his best friend – the only person aware of his secret identity – is dead.

The guilt nearly destroys him.

The only thing keeping him alive some days is the knowledge that he can’t leave Aunt May. He's the only family that she has left. He sits at Gwen’s grave every day without a word.

Peter stops humming.

-  
-

Picking up the mask again had been so hard and so easy at the same time.

He has to protect the people in New York, to make sure that no one else suffers such an immense loss of their loved ones. Peter feels deep in his heart that it's his responsibility. Spider-Man isn’t such big of a deal as the Avengers, but he's a symbol of hope for everyone that dares to look up and needs a silver lining.

And that is more than enough.

Juggling his night-time activities, and his day-time job as an intern at Stark Industries with his own studies, and some breaks between to sleep and eat doesn’t leave much time for everything else. It keeps his mind peacefully occupied. So it's a ‘slight’ surprise, when he swings around the corner of Union Turnpike and Parsons Boulevard - near to the ground, to show the bad boys that Spider-Man is in town – when he crashes into a tall man balancing on top of a streetlamp.

They go down in a mess of limbs and red spandex. Peter has a moment to wonder why his spider-senses hadn’t warned him about the man before they ungracefully hit the ground. The impact is pillowed by the muscular body underneath him.

**It’s Spider-Man on top of us.**

_SPIDEY!_

Peter blinks, still a bit shaken, and looks down.

“Well, baby boy. If that didn’t work out nicely.” Deadpool grins up at him through the red and black mask. (He looks like an excited panda on bad drugs, but Peter tries not to think that.)

There is a warm, rough hand groping his ass through the suit and Peter knocks it away and gets to his feet as fast as he can, cheeks burning underneath his mask.

“Wade? What the hell were you doing up there?”

He hasn’t seen his soulmate in over eight months. Peter hasn’t even thought about finding him for a while now. Running into Deadpool so unexpectedly pulls the floor right out from under his feet.

“Best way to catch a spider.” the older man shrugs nonchalantly way while standing.

**Pretend like we weren’t waiting there for the last four hours.**

_Soooooo boooooring! But we found him! Spidey!_

Peter is a little flattered by so much excitement, but he tries not to smile. The boxes might be old friends, but Wade is something else entirely.

“Since when are you back in New York City?”

“Aww! Did you miss me, Muffin?”

Around them people had started to look and gossip. Spider-Man interacting with Deadpool. Not something even a New Yorker got to see often. He really didn’t need some photo of this encounter on the cover of the Bugle in the morning. After a sharp look at the older man, Spider-Man webs away to a roof a few blocks down. If Wade wanted to find him, he could do so easily.

-  
-

It takes Deadpool a bit longer then Peter expected, but that gives him some time to collect himself. He hadn’t even known that his soulmate was back in the city. The boxes had chattered about Taco Bell for the last few days, with the typical bouts of teasing and meanness in between, but nothing about ‘home sweet home’. Maybe he should have listened better, after living with the voices for four years, it was easy to tune them out.

“ …my birthday suit, It's driving him through the roof. Hollywood girl on the fire escape. Don't you wait, 'cause it's getting too late~”

Wade has a nice voice, but the off-key mix between singing and mumbling just sounds horrible in the small alley underneath. Peter looks down and isn’t surprised to find the merc climbing up the metal fire escape of the building opposite the street. His good eyesight can make out the white plastic bag he's carrying in the low light.

**Buying food took so long. We would be impressed if he's still here.**

_But Spidey looked so upset. Tacos will cheer him up!_

“Who wouldn’t be happy about free mexican food?”

Peter watches the other man silently. His playful attitude can’t hide the way he moves with force and purpose, like the predator he is. It's fascinating. While Deadpool jumps across the alley, Peter draws one leg up to tuck it under his body. The merc lands on the edge and flails his arms like he wants to take off, but regains footing and strides over to him, flopping down.

**Still upset.**

_More like a cute lost puppy._

Wade chuckles and rummages around in the bag for a moment.

“You hungry, spider-boy?”

He accepts the foil wrapped taco that is thrust into his hand. Eating means there will be no talk for a while. The boxes are quiet as well. The silence that settles between them is somewhat loaded, and tense, and a bit too awkward for Peter’s liking.

It takes ten minutes of Wade shoving tacos into his mouth at an alarming pace before the merc’s hunger seems satisfied. He starts swinging his long legs after another minute of silence. The perfect picture of an impatient child.

“So. Where have you been, baby boy? You were really quiet for the last few months, ya know? Kinda made me worry if you got your sweet ass into-”

The half-eaten taco Peter throws at the man flies wide and disappears over the edge of the building.

“Where have I been? You have the nerve to ask me....? Where have you been? Where have YOU been?!” It had been an innocent question on Deadpool’s part, but suddenly everything he's held back for the last six months burns in Peter and tries to choke him. There had been no one who could take his outburst, whom he could direct his anger at, and there is a lot he has to say. He can't shut now up and he doesn’t want to. All the pent up anger and hurt breaks free.

“I needed you! Where have you been six months ago??? You could have helped! You could have been there. Saving Gwen... saving me! Where -”

Peters rant is cut short by ragged lips covering his own. There are strong hands on his shoulders and he tries to struggle against the closeness for a moment, then Wade adjusts the angle, their lips sliding together in a perfect fit and Peter sinks into the embrace and holding on like a drowning man. He's shaking. Everything hurts so much.

Wade tastes of tacos and something bitter, and his lips are burning hot. The rough leather parts of his gloved fingers slowly wipe over Peters cheeks, gathering wetness. He hadn't even noticed that he had started to cry. He barely notices that the older man had curled one finger in the seam of his spider-mask to prevent it from revealing more of his face than just the bottom half.

He starts to breathe again when Wade's lips leave his. The two of them sit totally still, sharing the same air for a few seconds. Peter is the first to break the spell and curls against the solid, warm form besides him. The arm around his shoulders fits like a glove. Everything feels so right. He hadn’t realized how much he had needed something like this. Someone who would protect him from the world for a moment.

“I’m sorry about the girl. I heard.” Wades voice is a calming, deep rumble against his covered hair. “Losing someone dear to you is so fucked up. I know.”

_Remember that one time we-_

“We are not talking about that.”

The box shuts up and Peter closes his eyes for a moment.

“Where have you been….?”

He sounds too young and broken. Wade rests the uncovered part of his chin against Peters forehead in a show of affection, holding him close.

“I had some work to do, baby boy.”

“Killing people.” It is not a question.

“Yes.”

**We haven’t killed for a while now.**

Wade shushes at the box. “He doesn’t have to know that…”

Of course Peter had heard that. He doesn’t think Wade had forgotten the fact that he was able to hear his boxes too.

“How long?”

“Not since Chapter five.”

“Wade.” That was making absolutely no sense.

The merc fidgets a bit and pinches Peters shoulder, before he gives in with a sigh.

“The last time was one month after we met… Business was slow, you know, sweetums. Not much to do. And ammo is just so expensive. Aaaaand… you are a hero…. Figuredyouwouldn'tlikeit!”

The babbling ends in a string of words spoken nearly too fast to catch anything. Deadpool is nervous, Peter notes with a tiny smile. So the man hadn’t just dumped him without any afterthoughts. If he's honest with himself, he had never thought Wade would try to change. Even though he hadn’t believed everything the Avengers had told him about the Merc with a Mouth, he had experienced the stubbornness for himself.

“Spidey…?” There is uncertainty in Wades voice, and Peter realizes that he'd been silent for far too long.

“Thank you, Wade.” Peter wants to say something more or even kiss him again, but a loud scream interrupts him before he can get to it. Both he and Deadpool look up.

“Shit. I have to… I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

After snuggling up into the protective warmth of the man beside him a second longer, Peter stands up finally and pulls his mask back down. Wade shows him a thumb up and a toothy grin.

“Go get ‘em, baby boy!”

_”Hate to watch you go but love to see you leave!_

Glad his mask is covering his faint blush, Spider-Man leaps from the building, throwing a web and swinging away, a loud wolf whistle following him around the corner.

**Damn, that ass. That’s our Spidey.**

The two robbers attempting to escape with a women’s purse are a welcome distraction from all the blunt flirting.

-  
-

Deadpool is gone when he returns to the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Hollywood Girl by Menswear
> 
> All my love for everyone!  
> Let me know what you think!


	7. Forward No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The voices in his head had gone silent when he listens again. The young man blinks, then shrugs. Who is he to judge, feeling pretty tired himself. Desperately not thinking about what just happened. He tries to sleep. Lucky Peter is exhausted enough for that to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback and kudos and bookmarks! Thanks to everyone who is reading this! ♥
> 
> The hardest chapter to write till now. I wasn't sure what exactly should happen between the important parts... So it took me a while. I'm sorry if anything seems strained. Did my best.
> 
> I'm sorry for this chapter in general. XD Great Spideypoll writer I am...
> 
> Have fun!
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: Deadpool being an whiny idiot. Sexist talk. Un-betaed**

**What are we doing out here again?**

Deadpool ignores the complaining of the white box while he leans back against the wall and broods. He wonders for a moment what the name for this one is, that Spider-Man had come up with, but squashes that thought as fast as it did occur. That's the reason he went out tonight after all. Because his apartment didn't offer enough distraction anymore. He had re-watched all seasons of Golden Girls and played some abandoned video games. It had lasted him six days before he was ready to crawl out of his skin. He couldn't even hang himself, because that might probably draw Spider-boy out of his spider-cave to investigate. Anyhow, it was just a measure of time that the hero would swing by his place anyway. So throwing on his suit and going out, it was. And NOT thinking about the wall-crawler!

_Probably something booooooring. Like Fritz-Gerald!_

Yellow Box – Bill – Had picked up about the Name-guessing.

**Fuck you. And weren't we avoiding to think about a certain spider-human?**

„Shadap.“, Wade growls under his breath, making a cat look up from its place on top of the dumpster he is currently leaning besides. Its a ugly thing, scarred from all the fighting on the streets and only skin and bones, covered in shaggy fur.

_Kitty! It looks like us!_

**We don't have any hair.**

“Being bald's better then this. Looks like it was run over more times then it has claws.”

 _Like us._ , snickers Bill the box.

Wade rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he might strain something and pulls away from the wet wall. The cat hisses at him and flees. Not that he needs the company right now. But he looks after it's retreating tail for a moment.

**Dude. We should do something. Creeping around in a shady alley like a creep will draw attention sooner or later.**

_But he wants that~!!!_

He is far enough from Queens that he would consider it fate to run unto Spidey, as long as he wasn't going on a killing spree. But talking about fucking fate... Fate was the reason for this fucking mess in the first place. Matching him to Spider-Man of all people.

“Whoever makes the pairs has some screws loose.”

_Like teachers in school! It's like getting paired with the class-nerd so we get at least one good mark that semester!_

**You don't know anything about school.**

Yellow-Bills phrasing really hits a bit to close for comfort, making Wade grunt in disgust and walk off. He is insane and ugly. He is a bad person. Not even Spidey's good-hearted boy-scout-nature would negate that. People like him never changed. They were no fit. And the hero clearly had scored the worse deal. Being stuck with Wade as a soul-mate...

_BEER!?_

Loud screeching of excitement pulls him out of his ever present miserable inner monologue.

The Merc is surprised to find himself in front of a run-down bar. He knows the place, has passed it a few times. It hadn't been his intention to come here, but his feet seemed to have other ideas. Also, the sign promises some exotic dancers. And in a establishment like this, the girls would wear less then floss while performing.

“Perfect. Thanks feet~”

What could distract him better then boobies!

-  
-

Four hours of cheep beer and even cheeper women later, Wade is still in need of more distraction. His healing-factor gets rid of the alcohol in his blood faster then he can drink it, and the girls are nice to look at, but he is not allowed to touch. Kinda boring.

At least the boxes have some fun, chattering about which stripper would match which My little Pony character. It is easy to blend them out when they get in their own world like that. He wishs it would happen more often. On the other hand it leaves the merc with way to much time to think about everything he dosn't want to think about. Thoughts that crawl into his brain like little spiders.

Absentmindly he rubs at a sore patch on the back of his neck. Without anything to concentrate on, the dull pain in his body spills to the forfront of his mind. He has an okay-ish day today, but that means everything still hurts like razorblades sawing away on his skin and muscles.

Wade is on the brink of zoning out with his eyes open, when they land suddenly on two perfect breast, nearly spilling out of a tight green top. And the best part is that they are shoved nearly into his face.

**Woha!!**

_WooooOHA! Lean down and press your face in THAT!_

Wades eyes travel up and down the womans body. That's a body directly out every mens sex-dream! All the right curves!

“Wow.... Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Even with my tits on display, I would prefer a look in to my face before you make some compliments.”

While the boxes snicker, Wade grins with all his teeth, covered by his mask. Her face is even as pretty as her boobs. Sharp cheekbones and full lips painted with dark lipstick, with eyes so green, he doubts they are from natural color. Her black hair is framing the porcelain skin quite nicely.

“Hoot hoot hotty! Compliment still stands.”

_Wonder if the lipstick smears while she gives a blow-job._

The look she gives him is pure sin and Wade suddenly has his lap full of hot brunet. Long nails drag over his biceps, catching in the fabric of the suit, digging into his skin a silver away from to painful.

“Look at you. All hard muscles and dangerous mask. I bet you could hold me up without effort.”

“Now you speak my language, sweetheart.”, he grins at her. “How much?”

“For you, baby? It's free.”

-  
-

Peter jolts awake with a start.

Confusion is mixing with sleepiness and he needs a moment to adjust to the world.

He had fallen asleep face down on his papers in the middle of finishing some assignment. A few of the black inked letters are now stuck to his slightly squashed cheek. He yawns loudly and cracks his spin. Sleeping like that always takes a toll on his back. The young man looks around.

What had woken him up?

His spider-senses are silent, so are his surroundings. It is nearly four in the morning, one of the few times when this part of New York is cloaked in mist and silence. It is always surreal. Peter loves it. If he wouldn't need a few hours of sleep between his daytime- and nighttime-activities, he would go for a little swing around Queens right now.

Coming to the conclusion that there had been no reason for him to wake up, he stands, intending to go to bed.

_Woha, they look even better without fabric covering them!_

**Looking fake.**

Peter stops death in his tracks. God, not this again. Being stuck with the voices for so long, he had encountered more then on opportunity to have them gush about some women or sometimes men. So he is familiar with the topic. Usually Bill is the overenthusiastic teenager in that situation. Like now.

_Who cares they are fake! They are huge! Boobies! Touch them. Come on!_

Great. Knowing that Wade is with some woman right now sends a pang of hurt through his chest. It hadn't been that bad before, but now he had meet his soul-mate and after last week...

_Hello big guy. Whatcha staring at? Touch them!!_

**He is still distracted.**

Knowing they won't shut up for a while now, Peter finally goes into his room. As far as he had witnessed, Deadpool doesn't get to it much. He suspects it might have to do with the crippling self doubt and insecurity, Peter has experienced through the bickering of the boxes. The Merc loud and confident behavior might fool everybody else, but he knows to much for that. So removing his mask or parts of his suit is hard for him. For an entirely different reason then for Peter. And because he had seen Deadpool... Wade without his costume at the first meeting, he understands it. The condition of his skin was shocking. Peter didn't judge, he was raised better then that, but he had seen the looks people gave Wade while they fought.

_Stop being distracted! She wants the D! Give her the D!_

Bill sounds nearly outraged.

**But he wants the spider.**

The shirt Peter had just pulled over his head falls out of his hands. What?

The crazier voice snickers in a really mean way.

_No harm done in using a bit of imagination here! Thinking about how we fuck Spider-Man up a wall in a shady alley. He will feel soooo good. Imagine all the little sounds he will make. Like the time we patched him up. That was fucking super hot! All the little 'Uhh's and 'Ahh's~_

**Wow, that really get's him hot.**

“W-what...?”, whispers Peter.

His ears are burning hot, and he feels the blush spread down his neck and even further. The rather graphic description hits him like a truck and he is left standing beside his bed like an idiot. His knees feel weak all of a sudden and he sits down heavily on his bed.

_We could get his knees up over our shoulders. I bet he is that flexible. Fucking him like we wanna break him, with the masks still on. We had that fantasy before, remember?_

Peter sinks back, his legs still hanging over the side of the bed and covers his eyes with his sweaty hands.

**Came so hard in the shower, yeah. Good times.**

The visual stuck in his head makes it hard to breath. Wade and his muscular build compared to his own slight frame. Its really hot. And where did that thought just come from?

_I bet Spidey would loooove it when we get to our knees in front of him. The innocent ones are the kinkiest! Our mouth is not just good at talking. He would fuck our face if we let him, impatient little spider._

**Suck him of and swallow – uha, dude, take it easy.**

He tries not to think about how wrong this is, while he reaches down and into his Sweatpants, curling his fingers around his already half hard erection. But it had been a while for him, and the images the boxes are painting getting his blood pumping. He feels hot and itchy all of a sudden. While the voice in his heads continues to tell Wade all about how he should fuck Peter over the old couch in his apartment, the younger man starts to jerk himself.

While the scenarios switch to shower sex _”... taking a good handful of his ass – god, that perfect ass, could sing a song to it – holding him up against the tiles. We would fit in so easily after the first two rounds~”_ ,and then to the bed **”We would finally strip him out of the suit. I bet he has freckles. Bite every one of them.”** , Peter approaches his own release faster then he would ever admit. He is not sixteen anymore!

_Spidey would look so hot while he is riding cock. He has the most handsome blush ever. And his lips... we wanna kiss them again._

That thought is what pushes Peter over the edge. He is covering his low moan with an hand on his mouth, body bent taut. Then he sinks boneless into the mattress, sweat covering his skin, the blood still rushing in his ears. The feeling of Wades chapped lips is all he can think about.

**Wow. That got him coming fast.**

It is a reminder of the situation Wade is in, and Peter groans and rolls to his side. How messed up could his life be...? After cleaning up, he curls into a ball under his blankets, busying himself with the pillow. It helps to blend out the boxes for a moment. So he misses the next few words.

_Hm-hm. Sleepy all of the sudden...._

**Bit... strange...!**

_Spi-..._

**...**

The voices in his head had gone silent when he listens again. The young man blinks, then shrugs. Who is he to judge, feeling pretty tired himself. Desperately not thinking about what just happened. He tries to sleep. Lucky Peter is exhausted enough for that to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so awkward to write... and it hurts me to read it. u.u  
> Strangest smut I have ever witnessed...  
> But it was necessary (haha) to go on with the story. Let me know what you think!


	8. The Quiet at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a deep, shaky breath, Peter stands up. No way he will sit around and worry, while something is happening to his soul-mate. And with an set-up like that, it couldn't be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for all of this... it has to get worse before it gets better, right?  
> Right?
> 
> Some Avengers in this chapter! Yay!
> 
> I hope you like it! ♥
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: No beta. Angst.**

“ _\---AN!!_

Peter sits up so fast, the world is spinning for a moment, white dots swimming in and out of his vision. His spider senses are screaming at him, making his heart race. Something is definitely wrong.

**Oh, he is awake.**

The voices. So that means...

“Deadpool?”

Uncertain if he has a guest, the young man looks around. But all he sees is his tiny one-room-apartment, like he left it last night. Half finished papers scattered over the table and his shoes by the door. That is closed. As closed as the window. Besides that, the older man doesn't even know where he lives.

“Wade?”, he tries again. Nonetheless.

 _Not around it seems._ , Bill informs him in a way to serene voice.

“What?”, is all Peter can say to that.

Both voices snicker and it feels so wrong that they seem to interact with him. That hadn't happened before. Only when Deadpool had been around, Bill and Bob had been able to talk to him.

**As Yellow said. The big boy seems to be not around. We are stuck with you, I guess.**

Peter blinks a few times and gets up from the bed, hands shaking. He feels cold all over.

_Look, Fritz-Gerald and me had some time -_

“Bob... the name is Bob.”

**Told you so.**

The crazy voice ignores both of them and talks on.

_We had some time discussing the situation before you did wake up. Was pretty clear from the start we weren't stuck in that idiots head anymore. Way to tidy in here._

**No idea what happened. We never woke up some place el-Woha.!**

Peter blinks a few times and looks at his tired face in the mirror, hair standing up in all directions at once, before he gets it. Oh fuck!

_Loooook! Spider-babe is fucking hot! Oh. EM. GEE! Look in the mirror again please!_

His cheeks are burning as he tries to comb down his hair a bit. It is hard to ignore all the praises directed at him. Peter isn't dumb, he knows he is at least average looking, but having comments like “ _Look at that big bambie eyes. So pretty!_ ” and “ **Spidey, you can't be single.** , directed at his bad bed bedhead would make everyone blush.

_The big Guy was right. We would have fallen in love with him even faster. Good thing he didn’t see his face. And look at that lips. Would look pretty around our d-_

“Stop! God!”

The young man ducks away, unable to look himself in the eyes any longer. 

“You are the worst. Please just stop that train of thoughts, okay?”

He is trying hard to not think about the mental image. So it takes a moment to register what Bill had also said and he stills. Wade had fallen in love…?

 **Doesn't mean we wouldn't store it away on the spank-bank for later use.** , Bob sounds like he is grinning and Peter groans in agony. That is just to much for him. Why did he deserve this…?

“Well, good luck with that, seeing how you have lost your host.”

Peter's muttered words finally draw the boxes attention – and wow. They are really boxes. He had thought Wade was just talking nonsense, but no... Bill is a yellow Box and Bob a white on.

“Urgh.... I'm going to need so much therapy...”

Like having the crazy inner voices of your soul-mate stuck into your head for the last five years did qualify one as a sane person. But he really had tried to not let it effect him to much, still fighting for responsibility and the good.

**Hey Spidey? Could you stop the dramatic inner monologing? We all get that you are the good guy in that deal.**

“Shut up Dr. Sues. What happened? You are not messing with me? You really don't know where Wade is?”

**Nope. Just went MIA**

_What happened was: We had sex with that fucking hot chick. Not the best sex ever, I have you known._

Peter mumbles an embarrassed “Shut up.” and both boxes wolves-whistle at him.

_Oh, he knows. Liked the show, Spider-Man? Did you shoot some webbing? Insert an suggestive eyebrow-wiggle here!_

“I'm starting to get why he shoots himself in the head so much...”

Just having to listen to the voices was hard enough, but holding an actual conversation with them is driving him up the wall already. He is feeling for his other half deeper then he would ever admit. While he gets coursed out as rude, Peter puts on some pants and a shirt.

“So you don't know anything.”

**We did just fall asleep after. Very fast. Was a bit strange...**

_Our recovery period is usually very short. Thanks to the healing-factor.”_

Peter sits down on his unmade bed. He is slowly starting to get over the feeling that his head is to crowded for him, and starts to feel concerned. Something has to be wrong when the voices are with him. Had something like that ever happened to anyone with a 'song'? But how would they know? The song is just there. Till it isn't anymore, because ones soul-mate had died. But had Wade...?

“He... he can't die, can he?”

His voice cracks at the question, and the young man hates himself for that. Having learned at a fifteen that the other half of him wasn't capable of dying, he just had assumed that Wade would be around forever. And how fucked up is his life, that he is just realizing now that he had always taken that as a given?

 **No way we know about.** , says Bob. He sounds more earnest now. “ **You think that's why we are stuck with you now?**

“No...don’t know. I hope not.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Peter stands up. No way he will sit around and worry, while something is happening to his soul-mate. And with an set-up like that, it couldn't be good.

-  
-

There was no mutual discussion, but the boxes aren't complaining, while Peter walks to the shitty apartment, he woke up in eight months ago. It feels like it has been in another life. He still knows the way. He knows better how to swing there, but today he is just Peter Parker sprinting up the rotten stairs. Not Spider-Man.

The door to Deadpools apartment is open, but his senses aren't picking up an any danger and the young man isn't surprised to find the rooms empty. There were no traces of a fight. Just the usual mess. He slowly looks around. The first time he had been way to nervous and uncomfortable to let his eyes really linger and just had registered the mess, but there was actually a lot more to the apartment then empty pizza boxes and old beer cans.

It is shocking how much weaponry and ammo is laying around on the floor and different surfaces. A combat knife is sticking in the backrest of the single armchair. Several other holes in the upholstery suggested that it was not the first time the chair has gotten slaughtered like that. Around the living-room are hanging old posters from even older TV Shows and Super Heroes. It is a mismatched pattern of pictures and missing wallpapers. The red bricks of the walls are blotched by bullet holes. Seeing the single ones hurt Peter the most, because there usually are accompanied with a big splatter of dried blood. He didn't need his imagination to think of a reason for that.

The kitchen is mostly empty, and he spots the pink apron. Since the last time he did see that frilled crime against humanity, Deadpool had added 'Kiss the Coo(c)k' in sprawled black Marker. Most of the drawers are wide open and empty, but Peter is suspecting that this is rather a normal picture, then something that did indicate a robbery.

“A... nice place to live.”

_It's a shit-hole. And that's putting it mildly. You should see the actual hole we shit in, Spidey._

**No need for him to lose the breakfast he didn't have. The boy is peaky enough.**

Peter rolls his eyes. “I'm just well defined.”

He is not surprised that Bob and Bill cat-call at him for that remark. He wishes he could just walk away from them, with leaving the kitchen.

A rumpled red suit is laying by the bedroom-door and Bill fills him in on the fact that Wade usually fucks with his mask on “ _Just his mask on!_ ”, even if Peter hasn't asked for that information.

**Look! We didn't left that here.**

Still trying to clear his head of that visual, Peter blinks to concentrate on what he is actually seeing. Half covered by the old mattress that serves as a bed, an used syring is lying on the ground. It is empty except a few drops of a foggy white substance. The needle is broken.

“You don't know what that is?”

_Not ours!_

Bob agrees and Peter thinks he might believe them. With super fast healing like Deadpool's, taking drugs for fun seems just useless. Not that he would put that idiocy beyond Wade. But the Merc has never left him with the impression that he would like it to have something in his system that would mess him up. How short that would last. Besides bullets.

After finding some empty bag of chips, he picks up the tool and packs it away.

**Think that fucking bitch injected us with something.**

“You know for sure?”

_Think I remember her stinging us in the ass._

**Could have been her nails, through.**

After taking on last look around, Peter leaves the flat. There is no use in staying and waiting for the Mercenary to come home. The chances that he will come home are to small. His skull is throbbing angrily at him, not just because of the boxes, because he is driving himself sick with worries by now.

-  
-

“And you know that Wade Wilson is in danger because…?”

Steve isn't looking any more convinced then any other member of the Avengers in the big conference room does. Natasha is even tapping her perfectly painted fingernails on the table, transporting her thoughts just clear. 'Why should we even care if it was true.'

A whole day had passed, without any sign of Wade. Peter had visited the bar the Merc had been last, and every Taco Bell in New York. But he had come up with nothing. By now he is so worried, he had even considered going to the Police, reporting Wade Wilson as missing. Maybe that would have been a better idea then asking the Avengers for help.

Peter hesitates. He suspects the Hero will not accept some made up reason. Besides that he is a horrible liar. So he tells the truth.

“Because I have Bob and Bill now.”

“What?”, Clint rises a eyebrow. “You guys adopted puppies?”

_Woof woff!!_

**barke**

“No.... no. You guys know about his voices, right? The ones he refers to as his boxes? I know you know. It's in his file. And I can hear them, because... because we are soul-mates and now they are stuck in my head and I usually couldn't talk to them but now I can and they don't know where Wade is and I'm so worried.”

It is easier to say it out loud then Peter had thought. His nerves are still wreaking havoc on him but he had suspected he would care more what this group of Super Heroes would think about him. The amazing Spider-Man being matched to an insane killer. But all Peter is feeling as that press of urgency and worry.

“Wait... what?”

Bruce nearly drops the pen he was fiddling with mindlessly. The mirrored looks of shock on everyone's face is enough to make the spider-themed Hero bristle. He knows Wade hadn't always played nice with the Avengers or anybody at all, but he isn't one of the bad guys either.

“He is my soul-mate. And I need your help. If you can't do that because saving Deadpool isn't on your hero-to do-list, then I'm out of here.”

He sees Steve and Tony treat a look. 

“Please calm down, Spider-man. You have to allow us a moment of surprise. This was unexpected.”

Captain Americas voice is calming and full of reason. Peter would not put it besides the blond man that he would rise his hands in an peaceful gesture to empathize his point.

“Tied to the freak-show for life... wow, that mess has to suck.”

**Rude asshole.**

“Tony.”

But the damage is already done, the work from Steve, trying to calm Peter, ruined. The young man reacts fast. Not even Natasha, with her amazing spy-reflexes has enough time to rise her hand, while he webs Iron-Man's mouth shut and stands.

“Fuck you. He might be dangerous and his moral compass is broken, but he is _my_ soul-mate and I want him back in one piece. And if you can't get your head behind this, then _you_ are the mess.”

Tony's eyes nearly buck out of their sockets and he flails his arms. In his anger Peter had overdone it a bit with the web and covered his nose as well as his mouth. It must get hard to breath by now. He feels bad for half a second. Then he turns and walks out of the room.

Heavy footsteps follow him into the hall and he stops after a moment. After taking a deep breath, he turns around.

“That was unnecessary.”

Captain America gives him his best unapproving look. But instead of allowing himself to feel like a child in trouble, Peter rises to his full high and crosses his arms. He doesn't have time for that bullshit! He could already by out of the Avengers Tower and searching.

**It was absolutely necessary. Time for Iron-Man to pull his head out of his ass.**

_It's no hat!_

Peter wants to repeat the words into Steve's face, but there are some things you don't say to the unofficial Leader of a world-knows group of super heroes.

“Listen, Steve. I know your team had his fair share of trouble with Deadpool. Hell, I had, too. Not so long ago I would have been happy to have him out of the city. But things have changed. Wade has changed. He has not killed anyone in a long while. He is trying to be a better person. He is trying. For me. And that's more then I could have ever asked from him. I can't loose another person that is close to me. I have to find him. He would do the same.”

“You are sure he was not lying to you about the killing?”

The boxes start to scream insults in his head. Peters lips tighten.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is taking tabs of him, aren't they? Ask them. I know it is true.”

Spider-Man is ready to bristle on anything Cap has to say to that. Knowing the agency was following his soul-mate around was one thing, but getting told that it was true was another thing. 

“That is actually a good Idea, Spider-Man. Maybe they know where Deadpool is right now.”

“What?”

Peter hadn't expected that answer.

“Maybe they can help.”

**This asswips would never help us. They will send us to Canada, just to have us out of the way.**

_Or to the moon. True story!_

“Oh shut up.”

The look Steve gives him makes Peter backtrack and sputter an apology. He hadn't even noticed that he had said that out loud. Now he know how Wade had to feel all the time. It was no surprise the Merc with a Mouth had just given up with the not-answering, seeing as everyone took him for insane anyway. It was just hard to ignore the Boxes all the time.

“Sorry... You really want... to help me?”

“Yes. I don't might like Deadpool, even if I try to respect him. But I know how it feels to loose your soul-mate. No one should have had to experience that. I will see what I can do.”

Peter takes a deep breath.

“Thank you, Steve. Really. And Sorry... I overstepped a line.”

The older man waves him of with a small up-turn of his lips. Tony Stark – genius philanthropist playboy billionaire – was a hand full of trouble, and Cap had probably experienced his own moments, where he had wished for a way to shut him up as effectively as Peter had.

“I'm sure Tony can understand.”

_And if not, we take his secretary-girlfriend away. Let's see who is freaking out then!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> If you wanna chat say Hi on [Tumblr](http://klayr-de-gall.tumblr.com/)!


	9. Your hands are cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one knows anything. It is so fucking terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t say it often enough: Thank you everyone, for all your support, hits, comments and kudos! ♥♥♥♥ It means so much to me to know that this fic gives so much joy to so much people. It is kind of sad to know that there is only one more chapter left, but boy, it was a great journey!  
> THANK YOU everyone!
> 
> Writing this one took me a bit longer. Life was a bitch and inspiration was hiding behind it, so I’m sorry that it is a bit later the usual. I hope you like it.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: Self loathing. Angst. Graphical violence. Torture. Character Death.**

Peter sits in one of the many labs in the Avengers Tower. All the talking and arguing upstairs had driven him away, so he had just left the Heroes and found himself a quiet room with a dark corner. He is curled into a little ball in a armchair, eyes barely open. His body is shacking all so slightly and his hands are freezing cold. Without a minute of sleep for the past two days and barely any appetite to eat more then a dry slice of bread, the young man is a wrack. He has his mask up, and his face pressed to his knees, taking deep breaths.

Bill is singing 'Itsy bitsy spider' in his head, but it had long stopped to make Peter laugh or even smile.

**You should try to sleep, Spider-Man.**

“I can't...”

Even after being stuck together for over sixty hours, Bob and Bill don't know his name. None of the men and women upstairs do. It makes everything so much more unpersonal, so much colder and harder. Peter longs for the comfort Gwen had given him. Or a warm hug from his Aunt.

But he can't leave now. S.H.I.E.L.D. had finally given in a few hours ago, because the whole team had threatened to cut their ties to the agency, if they would not cooperate finally – Peter still wants to cry, just thinking about it. Director Fury had giving them access to all data, but even with an amazing A.I. like Jarvis, it took some time to sight them all. The video footage is Peters last hope. He had spend the last day patrolling the city with Hawkeye, without even a trace of Wade.

No one knows anything. It is so fucking terrifying.

“You still owe me a story.”, he mumbles as he reaches for his cup of cold coffee.

_I know an interesting one!_

“It has to be a true one.”

To help him stay awake, Peter had just told the Voices about the first time he had heard them in the shower, all this years back. They had promised to tell him one from Deadpools life as payback.

_The one about bone-chick_

**True one.**

Peter sighs but sits up a little. He just hopes the tale will not be filled with to much sex.

_Before we met you, the big guy was in love with death._

“What?”, his voices fills with irritation. From all stories they could have picked in this nerve-wreaking moment, this bastards choose one about death?

“You mean figuratively.”

**No. Literally. But probably figuratively as well. Might be a metaphor the storytellers picked.**

Peter swallows the lump in his throat.

“That... that doesn’t make any sense.”

_He was in love with Mistress Death and just wanted to die to be with her. She is all bones. Wears all black. Has a creepy smile. Not that hot actually._

**But then we found you. And suddenly he wanted to live.**

Breathing out snakingly, Peter wipes at his cheeks, not embarrassed to feel some wetness there. He has to find Wade. He needs to. Losing his soul-mate will break his heart.

“Sir?” Jarvis Voice is filtering through the speakers in a soft tune. “You might want to put your mask on, Spider-Man. The others are heading towards your location.”

“Thank you. Jarvis.”

He sniffs one last time, then pulls the red mask back over his face. He trusts the A.I. with removing his face from every video recording that might have been taken in the time-span he was unmasked. Peter isn't sure if it was something Tony had instructed the computer to do, or if the artificial intelligence had decided by himself. He is grateful any way.

A moment later said billionaire burst through the door.

“Buckle up, Watson! We have a lead!”

Peter stands, grateful that Tony is to occupied with talking to notice the slight swaying. He casually puts his hand on the desk to minimize the risk of toppling over from dizziness.

“Where?”

“Deadpool was last seen at the harbor two days ago.”, Captain America fills him in, while entering the room. “His unconscious form was carried out of a Van and into a warehouse by some unidentified men.

_We already checked the harbor._

**You already checked the harbor.**

“I already checked the harbor.”

Tony rises his eyebrow at him.

“You want to ignore this lead?”

“Fuck you, Sherlock. Lets go.”

-  
-

The Team takes the Quinn-Jet to the location. Even if Peter is a huge fan of swinging, flying isn't his biggest love, but they are there way faster then he could have ever managed on his own. Having the support of the Avengers means a lot to him. He is to on edge right now to voice his gratitude. To afraid the tail will end at the warehouse. It is the only clue they have.

Even the boxes are quiet, vibrating with anticipation.

The moment the Jet touches down, Spider-Man is jumping out. His spider-senses are dully tingling. But with such a large body of water so near, it could be just anything. The area is run down and shady, graphite and litter everywhere.

No one is speaking, while Cap and Black Widow following him inside the building. Iron-Man and Hawkeye will stay outside to secure the place and to act as back-up when needed. The last thing Peter cares for at the moment is strategy. All he wants is to find Wade, and so he runs through the first empty hall, following the directions his senses give him on auto-pilot.

A left turn, a corridor. A door to his right that is looked but old and isn't holding under his inhuman strength. Two armed men in a room full of lockers, taken of-guard. One webed to the wall. Cap by his side, blocking shoots from the second one with his shield and taking the guard out with a fist to his head. Black Widow finding the switch to open a hidden door. The noiseless screaming in his head turning out her voice while he rushes forward through the door.

A bullet to his thigh.

The pain is so immense that Peter falters for a moment, getting thrown against a wall. While Widow and Captain America take out the next three guards, the young hero catches his breath for a moment. He needs a clear head for this.

More and more men are filtering through even more hidden doors into the storage room they are currently boxed up in. Even if the security guards are no real threat to Natasha and Steve, it slows them down a lot.

**Not Security. They are hired. No firm-logos on their vests.**

_Hired to kill._

Having the inner voices of a mercenary with him proofs itself helpful now. Bob and Bill provide him with tips how to not draw any attention. The bright red suit isn't really helping to stay out of sight and Peter rubs some dirt into the fabric – that will be a hell to clean later. While the two Avengers are providing enough distraction, Peter crawls to the ceiling and out of the big room, using one of the bigger doors.

The further he gets away from the battle behind himself, Peter's enchanted hearing picks up on the noises he is crawling toward. There is shouting and crashing, yells of pain.

“Get him! Restrain him!”

The voice of a woman, venomous and nearly a hiss, is followed by the noise of cracking bone. Peter feels ill all of the sudden.

He drops down besides the door where all the yelling comes from. The doors fly open, as one of the nameless guards is thrown through it. The heavy wood nearly knocks Peter in the head. His spider-senses are on such high alert, he hadn't even registered yet another little spike.

Through the wide open doors, it is easy to see that the room- some kind of lab – is a mess. There are broken work-stations and some desks that had toppled over. At the back of the room some rubble is on fire. There also was a large glass-window that is looking into another room. Peter is sure there had been a one-way-mirror to safely look at whatever was going one inside the smaller room, without being seen, but the glass was shattered into thousand of pieces. They are littering the ground around a human form, standing in the middle of all the mess and destruction.

Spider-Man can’t get a good look at the figure, because a woman is taking up most of his vision, standing with his back to him, combat-stance and a whip in hand. Her sleek black hair is flaked with ash.

_That’s the BITCH!!_

“Not that I want to interrupt all the fun, but is there some cake left?”

His voice isn’t sounding as cocky as he would like, having that exhausted, desperate edge to it, but the woman whirls around, whip cracking. She has the coldest, greenest eyes he has ever seen. They look like poison and seem to glow.

“Spider-Man. How nice of you to finally show up. We were getting impatient of waiting.”

The way she is turning her back on the man she had faced in defense few seconds ago, gets Peters Spider-sense to kick into overdrive, nearly dazzling him with the intensity.

“So nice of you to join the party.”

Her voice is a low hiss. But before he can point out that it looks like a shity party, his instincts make him flinch to the right. A long sword pierces the air where his throat had been a moment ago.

_Oh shit._

**No.**

There is no time to look at his opponent properly, because the sword slashes out in the direction of his face again, so fast it earns Peter a cut on the cheek. He kicks the man – definitely man, all muscles and startlingly and utterly _naked _\- into the chest. The arachnid realizes to late that he has used to much strength, sending his attacker flying to the other side of the room. The man hits the ground hard and a long shreds of mirror-glass punctuates through his right side.__

The man stands and rips it out. The fire finally illuminating him enough to have a good look.

Peter freezes.

“Wade?” 

_Holy **fricking** Devil...”_

All his scarred skin on display, the mercenary is standing in front of him, blood gushing out of his side. Cuts are drawn all over his body, between deep bruises and patches of raw flesh, where no skin was left. His right arm is spiked with glass, basically shredded. His fingers ripped open and broken, one missing. But the man is just standing here, looking at Peter without blinking.

”Wade!”

Peter rushes forward, but is stopped by a rising blade. The boxes recognize the move.

**He is out to kill**

_Look at his..._

Bill falls into silence. That's the moment Peter takes a closer look at his soul-mates face. The world freezes. Deadpool's oh so impressive blue eyes – Peter just had seen them once but he was never able to forget – where cold and unmoving as steel. The look he was given made a cold shower run down the superhers’s back. But Wades mouth...

Peter has to try not to gag by what he sees.

Wades lips are sewn shut. Sliver thread – wire, he registers in horror – is pressing the ever-talking mouth shut. The flesh is ripped and swollen, bloody in so many places.

“Oh my god... Wade...”

“Like what you see, Spider-Man?”

For a moment he had entirely forgotten about the woman in the room, but now he looks at her for a moment, then back to his soul-mate. All the marks on his body speaking from torture far worse then Peter could ever imagine.

He feels freezing cold inside. His lips are trembling to much to form words.

“We took everything from him. Everything that made him himself.”, is whispered into his ear, followed by mock laughter. “Everything to drive Spider-man out of his web. How does it feel, seeing your soul-mate like this? Having him taken away?”

The words make Peter whirl to her. It is a mistake, because Wades sharp blade cuts deep into his arm the moment Spider-Man has his back on the Merc. His spider-senses getting sloppy, not knowing on what to focus more.

**Duck!**

It's only rational to listen to Bob and he drops to the ground, the sword missing him mere inches. He kicks Wades feet out from under his body and turns to the green-gled woman again. She doesn't even fight when he webs her to the wall.

“You can't win this one, Spider-Man! He will kill you!”

Her laugh rings through the room like a manic song, while Peter has to dodge the next attack from his soul-mate.

“Wade! Wade, stop! It's me!”

The next cut goes deep into his thigh, under the bullet wound already here.

_He isn't listening!_

**We need to get to him. We need him to wake up!**

“Wade!”

The voice of the younger man is full of desperation but still goes unheard. Just those cold eyes looking back at him, before Deadpool attacks him again. The deathly precision is frightening.

Peter ducks and lashes out in need to protect himself, his web sticking to a large piece of crumbled wall with some metal pipes sticking out. It’s not heavy enough to use as an anchor, but he can throw it and so he does. The spider human hauls it against Wades upper body. The sharp stone cut the man deep, leaving dark smears of blood on his scarred, uneven skin. Some drops gather in the edge of the cut, then spill over and flowing down. The metal had pierced the flesh of his left shoulder, coming out with a wet sound and a gust of blood.

And Peter finally sees it.

He sees the deep wound in his side, bleeding so much that his leg is coated in dark red. He sees all the craps and bruises. He sees the destroyed hand still holding the sword. How pale Wades face is, while blood is dripping down his temple.

And finally he understands why the sense of wrongness is sitting so deep in his stomach. It isn’t just the fight. The boxes are noticing it the same moment.

**He isn’t healing.**

“Wade…”

The sword nearly cuts his arm off and he skitters out of range. Jumping up and away, Peter sticks to the wall besides the neatly webbed up woman.

“What have you done to him??”

Her smile is cold and beautiful.

“I told you, Spider-Man. We took everything that makes him what he is. Even his super-healing. He will not stop until he kills you. Or you kill him. Can you do that, Spider-Man? Killing your own soul-mate?”

“Why… why would you do something like that?!”

_FUCKING BITCH! KILL HER!_

A tingle races up his spine and he drops to the ground the moment the blood smeared sword is thrown at him. It pierces the webbing that holds the woman, but before Peter can repair the damage, he is tackled to the ground by a muscular body. The impact hits hard and kicks all his air from his lungs. He is just laying there for a moment, limbs shacking, back arching.

**Get up, Spidey!**

_NOW!_

But he can’t, because he is pinned to the ground, be Wades body-mass and the soulless stare in that oh so blue eyes. 

“Can you kill your Soul-mate, like you killed mine?!” 

Time seems to stop. He isn’t breathing, he isn’t thinking and it feels like his heart has stopped pounding. There is a sharp knife in Wades free hand, beautiful and sleek, glinting in the light of the flames while he is rising it. And Peter knows that this will be the weapon that will kill him. He just knows it with all clarity.

“Wade…” 

It is more a breath then a word. The boxes are silent. He can’t fight any more. His strength is nearly gone and his only hope to survive this is to hurt his soul-mate even more. To kill him. And he can’t do that. That would be even worse then getting killed.

Slowly, Peter closes his eyes while he feels the cold steel settle against his throat, digging into his skin a little.

_Don’t kill him, Idiot! Wake up!”_ , Bill is screaming at the man above Peter, going unheard. 

**Spidey is all we ever wanted.** , Bob pleads. 

Peters lips start to tremble and his eyes water. The sting the knife is causing while cutting open his skin has nothing to do with it.

__“You are everything I ever wanted. Never forget. It’s not your fault, Wade.”_ _

__Speaking causes the blade to cut even deeper, but he has to say this to his soul-mate. He has to tell him. There is a hot gush of breath on his face. Then the weight on top of him is gone. So is the knife._ _

__Peters eyes fly open._ _

__Wade is on the other side of the room. His eyes are big with horror, nearly white and his hands are shacking so bad he drops the weapon he is holding. He drops to one knee and a new gush of blood spills from his side, unnoticed to the naked man._ _

__For a moment the only thing Peter can feel is relief floating him, because what he sees in the eyes of his other half is so raw and human, he just knows Wade had snapped out of it. Then the Merc starts to claw at his mouth, still sewn shut, trying to rip out the wire that’s holding his lips together. His broken fingers give a sickening crunch._ _

__“Wade! Stop! Oh god… stop.”_ _

__Openly sobbing now, Peter staggers to his feet, stumbling the few meters through the room, leaving dripless of blood in his wrack. Wade shies away from him, backing into a corner, like a hurt animal. It fucking hurts to see him like this. The older man is shaking, curled in on himself and so hurt._ _

__The boxed are radiating horrified silence in his head._ _

__“Wade…”, he tries again._ _

__It is not a decision the Spider-human makes, but he starts humming the song – their song. And miraculously, it helps. As if his soul-mate was just recognizing him now, he started to calm down a fraction, shaking fingers reaching out. Then his expressive eyes widen._ _

__Peters intern warning system picks up the danger a moment later. A moment to late._ _

__The venomous woman had freed herself from her prison of webs. She was pointing a gun at Peters head now._ _

__“You can’t stop me Spider-Man! I still take everything!"_ _

__She pulls the trigger._ _

__Peter hears the bang._ _

__But he never feels the impact of the bullet._ _

__-  
-_ _

__The next moments are a blur around Peter._ _

__He can’t remember when Steve got here or how. When Natasha knocked out the Black-haired Woman, or the explosion from one of the burning workstations, that has flames raining over his back._ _

__All he sees over and over again, is Wades broad figure shielding him. The switch his body gives while the bullet rips through his right lung. The sickening thump when he slowly falls to the ground. Distant, Peter is aware that he was screaming while all of this happened. But now, everything is so utterly and completely silent._ _

__His soul-mate rolls to his back beside him, blood covering his chest, gushing out of the new wound. Wades body is having with tremors and his throat is working, while a slow stream of blood is pressed out of his mouth through his forcefully closed lips. Peter has to watch in silent horror, while the Merc is gagging on his own blood, rapidly swallowing everything he can and finally settling down unmoving against the ground._ _

__The stillness lasts for a few seconds, then Wade moves his arm, gripping the knife that he had thrown to the ground minutes and a whole lifetime ago. His arm shakes while he tries to pull it closer, against Peters own, cold hand. Spider-Man curls his finger around the handle in reflex._ _

__“Wade…?”_ _

__**He want’s to end this….** _ _

__Peters own realization mixes with Bobs deep voice. It makes his head ring._ _

__The young man looks down at his soul-mate and sees all the pain in his blue eyes, all the suffering. He grips the knife so hard that his knuckles turn white. The knife that hadn’t been able to end his life. The knife that will kill him with taking half his soul away from him._ _

__He can not do it._ _

__But the voices scream at him in cheer misery. Even they can't see their host suffer like that. Wade is slowly bleeding to death. He feels so cold, skin as pale as ash, lips twitching, still hold together with wiring._ _

__„I... that will kill you... Wade...“_ _

__His voice is nearly a sob._ _

__A cold hand closes over his, gathering the last strength and taking the knife from him. Even if Wade can't talk, it is obvious that he is in so much pain._ _

__“We could still… let us take you back to the Tower. We could stitch you together. We could help, Please let me help… There has to be a chance."_ _

__But he can see it in the little sad downturn of the corner of Wades lips and the miniature shake of Natasha’s head – kneeling beside him and the mercenary – that there is nothing they can do from stop this from happening. Wade is going to die. And he doesn’t have much time left. All that is left to do for Peter is to accept that his soul-mate wants to go under his own terms, in his own time._ _

__Peter closes his eyes and then reaches up with shaking fingers.. He pulls the spider-man-mask from his blood-stained, tear-streaked face._ _

__„My name is Peter.“_ _

__It is a merely shaky whisper but the Mercs scared features soften and his eyes blink rapidly._ _

__Wade brings the knife down._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry.  
> My heart hurt’s for our two babies.  
> Please share your thoughts with me! I always love to know what people think.


	10. Only the Dead see the End of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does it feel? Having nothing left!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The last chapter!  
> I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this down. **Thank you** to everyone who did stick around so long and my biggest apologies to everyone who thought that the story got abandoned. Not a day passed that I was not thinking about my baby. And feeling guilty for letting you all wait so long. 
> 
> I hope the chapter makes up for it. 
> 
> Pleas enjoy! ♥♥♥
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: Un-betaed. Violence. Graphic description of gore. Blood. Cinnamon-rolls.**

Peter will not remember anything that happens after.

He has no memory of Natasha, getting up after squeezing his arm in a rare show of compassion before she half dragged, half carried the unconscious woman out of the shattered room. Or of the old lab-coat that Captain America uses to wrap Wade's body up into. Blood seeps through the fabric immediately, painting the cover-up in a bizarre pattern.

He can't remember thinking that Deadpool looks so wrong in red and white, doesn't know that he said it out loud, in such a flat but manic voice, that Hawkeye flinched while trying to help him to get to his unsteady feet. Peter will never know that the tone he used sounds a lot like 'Bill-the-Box', because no one of the present persons knows what the yellow voice sounds like, besides himself.

He won't know later, that he was walking – stumbling- alongside Steve, his shaking fingers clenched into the coat that was wound around his dead soul-mate, in fear that someone could take Wade away. That emotion so clear in his unmasked face, that Captain America did not say something about it, even while it was difficult to walk like this, the small hallways barely wide enough to fit both of them, with all the unmoving bodies of hired security-men littering the ground.

He will have forgotten that he was sitting in the quin-jet, Wade spread out beside him on the bench hinging from the wall, while blood was slowly seeping into his suit and dripping from his feet to the dark metal floor. Peter has the Mercs head in his lap, caressing that pale, scared face, where the skin was still unbroken. Every time someone of the Avengers as much as dares to look in their direction, he curls up around the dead man, covering his face with his upper body.

Peter will never remember that he is crying the whole time.

-  
-

Back at Stark Tower, Peter is finally himself again. Not enough to bother with putting his mask back on, through. No need to try to cover up damage that was already done. Not that Peter really could care less in the moment.

The Jet takes down on the roof and the Avengers climb out of it. Everyone is silent.

“A room is prepared for Mr. Wilson.”, says Jarvis. Even the A.I. has the volume of his voice lowered.

Nodding his thanks to everyone, Peter follows Steve into the upper levels, Jarvis directions leading them. He wants to say 'Thank you', as the heroes would deserve but the young man doesn't trust his voice not to break.

They finally step into a room that looks like it belongs into a hospital, and Captain America sets the cold body down onto the clinical stretcher in the middle. Only two chairs are in the room alongside the bed. But what else would a dead man need.

“Can I do anything for you Pe- Spider-Man?”

If Steve had heard him say his name, it had not been meant for him, and Peter appreciated that the older man is respecting that. The little slip could be forgiven.

“Thank you. I just want to be alone.”

It did sound harsh, even to his own ears, but he is barely holding it together. All he wants - _needs_ desperately is some privacy. Some time to progress and think.

“Of course. Just tell Jarvis if you need anything.”

The blond male starts his retreat in the direction of the door but stops in front of him, and Peter is afraid that he will try to hug him. But all Steve does is lay a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

“I am sorry for your loss.”, he tells Peter in a heavy voice. Then the man leaves.

Finally alone Peter hangs his head and sits down on the edge of the hospital-bed. It takes him a bit to look into Wades unmoving face. His skin seems more gray under the unforgiving light, the slowly drying patches of blood a stark contrast. After a moment Peter touches his fingers to the swollen marks around his soul-mates lips, shuddering hard when he feels the cold metal wire.

“Jarvis? I... need something to get this off. Please...”

All to clear can he remember the horror in Wade's eyes when the wounded man had discovered his sewn shut mouth. No way Peter can just leave the metal there, holding the skin and bruising it up.

“I will send someone.”

This someone turns out to be some kind of robotic arm, standing on the other side of the door, holding a set of pliers. He... It turns his head/arm to the side making some questioning whirring sound, and Peter finally reaches up and takes the tools.

“Thanks.”

He shuts the door before the machine can roll in. Standing there without moving. Peter waits for the noise of rolling tiers, then he goes back to the bed.

Cutting the stitches is a nasty affair, and the spider-human has to stop a few times, on the brink of trowing up or breaking down in tears. The skin around Wades mouth is puffy and irritated, torn in so many places. The stitches have to be at least one to two days old. Peter can not imagine how a person could be capable of such a cruelty. Slowly he plugs piece after bent piece out of the cold skin. As the last part of wire comes free with a sickening wet sound, the mercenaries head rolls to the side, a gush of nearly black blood spilling out of his mouth.

Peter leaps back, still the mess splatters all over his legs and feet. The young man is shaking so bad that he has to topple over, hands on his knees, and breath. The nauseous smell of old blood gets into his nose and he spends the next minutes dry heaving , body convulsing with the force of it.

Only when he manages to open the window, letting in some air, Peter can finally straighten up again. While doing so, he catches a glimpse of a reflection in the dark glass. 

It's his own face, pale like a ghost, bags under his eyes deep and dark – but the next moment it is his soul-mate. Smiling, blood dripping from his eyes and mouth, skin melting.

With a panicked yell, Peter rears back, slips. His spider-senses screaming, sounding like a manic laugh, while he falls to the floor, directly into the puddle of flaked blood.

Something in him snaps.

Peter is out of the room in a blink. Bloodied Hands balled into fists. Going purely on instinct. He runs down the corridor full speed, using some webbing to round the corner instead of crashing into the opposite wall.

When the door comes into sight, he knows it is the right one.

Natasha and Tony whirl on him when he bursts into the room. But all Peter sees is the black haired Viper of a Woman, sitting on a wooden chair in the middle. Webs catch her leg and he rips her to the ground, fist going into her face.

“You Monster!”

“Shit! Spider-man, stop!”

But even a master-spy is no match against a human with super-strength in the grasp of hot, red rage, and Natasha is smart enough to know that. She doesn't try to interject when Peter lands the next hit into the woman's stomach. She just weezes and starts to laught.

“That's what you are getting for playing Hero, Spider-man!”, she screems, a histeric note in her voice.

“Jarvis! Get Steve!”

Clearly not the super-genius everyone takes him for, Tony tries to get Spider-man away from his target, earning a hard shove for his trouble. But he gets between Peter and the bitch.

“You left my soulmate to die! How does it feel? Having nothing left!?”

He doesn't hear any of her words.

“Tell me!! Tell me what you did or I KILL YOU!!”

Peter ducks around Tony while he shoots another thick web and flings it around the bitch's troth. His voice is manic.

“YOU FUCKI-”

It really comes as a surprise when Captain America hits him so hard over the head that his lights blink out.

-  
-

Minutes or hours later, Spider-Man wakes up to screaming. 

His hair is damp with sweat, his skin feels numb and cold. The heartbeat in his chest is drumming up a thunderstorm, as if his heart was trying to break free from his rib-cage. It makes the blood rush in his ears.

Only when the young man tries to sit up, he registers that the screams come from him.

Unable to muster the strength to really move, Peter rolls to his side, pressing his sweaty face into the pillow. It absorbed the screaming, the shacking sobs and whimpers. He doesn't care that he smears his tears and spit and snoot into the pristine, sky-blue fabric. When his voice is hoarse from the abuse, he screams some more, putting his whole body into it.

It helps to ignore the silence in his head.

It helps to forget that he is alone.

Finally exhaustion from the long days of worry, the battle and the grief takes mercy on the arachnid-human. He looses consciousness.

Everything falls dark.

Everything falls silent.

So silent.

-  
-

Not knowing which god to thank for the dreamless, deep sleep he has waken up from, Peter lies in the big bed, starring to the unmarked ceiling.

The sunset over New York is filtering through the complete wall of glass that is taking up one side of the friendly but otherwise clinical room. Besides the bed, that is so new and unused, it has barely a dip in the mattress, there are only a few other pieces of furniture in here. The desk and chairs look like designer pieces. Knowing the man this guest-room hast to belong to, the build-in-closet besides the door is probably bigger then Peters whole apartment.

The place smells of nothing. Just off dry air from the air-conditioning and newness. It makes Peter long for his own bed, his flat that smells like home and tea and him. Or for Wades place, filled with taco-stink and the smell of blood.

Slowly, Peter gets up from the bed. The glass-doors are closed, but when he tries, they opens easily, letting him out on a little balcony. He is no prisoner here and all he wands now, is to curl up on Wades old mattress and sleep for days. Spider-mans web-shooters are still strapped onto his wrists, hidden under the clothing that someone had put over his torn suit while he was out cold.

For a moment Peter just stands there on that platform so high above his city. The wind is biting at his scratches, but the air is fresh, free from all the smog and dust that is swirling around on the streets below.

Breathing deep, he closes is eyes.

His soul-mate is dead. 

Peter still has to come to term with that. Never had he thought that he would have to experience this loos, with the whole healing-factor and being-indestructible thing. But he had been wrong. Taking Wade as a given had been wrong. And now he had lost that one person that had meant the most to him in the world. Of course he had aunt May. And he loved her. She was his aunt. His family. But that could not compare with the absence of the man he got to know so well over the years without having to meet him more then a handful of times.

_How _did anyone cop with such a loos?__

__„Spider-Man?“_ _

__Peppers voice is soft, as if she was afraid her approach would scare him, but Peter only opens his eyes, slowly turning to the red-haired woman. His spider-senses had picked up on the other presence even before she had stepped into the room. Enough time for him to leap from the building, had he wanted to._ _

__„Miss Potts.“_ _

__“I am glade you are awake, Spider-Man. Jarvis informed me that you might want dinner.”_ _

__That did explain the tray Stark's CEO was currently putting onthe desk, loaded with scrambled eggs and overfilled sandwiches._ _

__“... My name is Peter Parker.”_ _

__The subtle smile Pepper gives him is knowing and she offers him her hand, her grasp firm and sure._ _

__“Nice to meet you again, Mr. Parker.”_ _

__Most likely had they gathered all Intel on him the moment he unmasked himself in front of the Avengers. Peter is working for Tony Stark, sure the man had recognized him. While there are a lot of interns in Stark Industries, Peter Parker is proud to be one of the brighter burning candles, and he had crossed paths and shacked hands with the infamous heir of the Stark dynasty more then once. And where Tony Stark went, went Pepper Potts._ _

__“I... yeah.”_ _

__He refuse to feel sorry for having hidden his identity for so long, but Pepper doesn't seem to mind._ _

__“You might want to come down after you have eaten, Peter.”_ _

__“Why?” Pepper stays silent. “Why? You know something?”_ _

__“After. You. Have. Eaten.”_ _

__There is emphasis on every single word in that sentence. And when Miss Potts looks at you all stern and disapproving – putting even 'The Look' from Steve to shame – you better obey._ _

__-  
-_ _

__Jarvis directs him down to what seems to be the living-area of the main floor, after Peter had gorged down most of the food. He had not been aware of the gaping hole in his stomach. But after nearly three days without much food, it should not have been such a surprise. He just hopes he won't throw it all up again later._ _

__Most of the Avengers are sitting around, doing some mundane tasks. They are all in civil coats, Natasha even wearing a too big hoodie that looks suspicious like it belonged to one of the more masculine team-members. Steve is drawing while holding a screwdriver out for Tony to snatch whenever the genius needs it for whatever tinkering task he is on to at the table. And Hawkeye is sleeping on the couch besides a newspaper-reading Pepper._ _

__Or faking it, the way he suddenly sits up when Peter stops a bit awkward in the middle of the room._ _

__“Spider-Man. I am glade you join us.”_ _

__Steve takes the lead naturally, giving him a kind, small smile._ _

__“Pepper... Miss Potts said I should come down. It sounded important, so...”_ _

__The way the young arachnid-human says it implies that he might have left otherwise. He doesn't feel social at the moment, even if he is beyond grateful for their help and support. Alone he would have never found Wade._ _

__“Straight to the point.”_ _

__Clint pats him slightly on the back on his way over to the door. He sounds like he has some respect for Peters brand of bluntness. He walks out of the room._ _

__“Yeah. Come on. I show you.”_ _

__Tony stands up too, gesturing for him to follow. It is a tense, loaded elevator-ride, all six of them silently standing side by side, not looking at each other. Peter is thrumming with nerves. He is ready to rip his hair out and actually feels relieved when they step through the door into Wades room. The thought makes him sick instantly and he nearly looses his half digested dinner._ _

__The Mercenary had been cleaned up. All the wounds stand out in stark contrast against his pale, scared skin. He looks displaced in the clean bed. Peter stops at his side, caresses his shoulder in a light touch. The coldness of the skin under his fingers makes him shudder._ _

__“We didn't get much from that crazy basket-case then her name, but that was enough. Because Ophelia Sarkissian is a well known chemist with some love for experimenting with poison. With that in mind we let Jarvis run some scans on Deadpools body and blood-samples.”_ _

__He makes a heavy pause for dramatics there, and Peter swears he will murder that man if he is not talking on soon. Some of that might be reflected on his face, because Iron Man hurries to carry on._ _

__“We found something. Some mechanic instrument, attached to his heart, that is leaking a substance into his body.”_ _

__“Please understand, Spider-Man.”, Steve interrupts. “We don't want you to get your hopes up just yet... we don't really know what it is and if-”_ _

__“We know what it is-” - “Yes, Tony, but-” - “If you would kindly leave the talking to me then -”_ _

__“Remove it.”_ _

__The room falls silent at Peters words._ _

__They all look at the young hero with different levels of shock. But Peter is done with all of this. He is trying not to be optimistic, or stupid, but it is a chance, so he will take it. If Jarvis' is wrong, he will tear himself up over the level of disrespect they have put his soulmates dead body through afterwards, over and over again. But right now there is only one thing to do._ _

__“Remove it.”_ _

__-  
-_ _

__Peter forces himself to watch, when Wades chest is cut open and the fragile, leaking device is removed. It looks like a bug and for a moment it looks like a heart. And Peter tries not to cry. He fails._ _

__-  
-_ _

__It turns out that resurrection is a rather anticlimactic affair._ _

__After a few tense minutes of waiting, Wade comes back to live with a deep, shuddering breath and a wet hick-up. Then the Merc turns to the left and vomits old blood all over the pillow. Peter can hear Tony muttering 'ewww gross.' and it kind of is. But he can't take his eyes of his soulmate. He can't look away from all the signs of life, of _healing_. Partly because he is afraid that this is only a dream and Wade will vanish if he dares to turn away._ _

___That was the most unfunny fun we ever had._ _ _

__**I agree to that sentiment.** _ _

__Peter is swaying a little and grabs Wades – thanks god already healed – hand hard._ _

__As if just registering the presence beside his bed now, the Merc stills and slowly turns to him._ _

__He looks._ _

__He blinks his blue eyes._ _

__“Peter.”, he says. Then, with so much relief and raw emotions in his voice again. “ _Peter._ ”_ _

__And Peter can't take it anymore. He surges forward and envelopes the older man in a bone-crushing hug. It's on the brink of to painful, because he doesn't have his superhuman strength in check, and he can feel Wade wince. But he can't bring himself to let go. And the way that the Merc is holding onto him like a lifeline... he probably didn't mind to much._ _

__“How do you feel, Deadpool?”_ _

__It's Hawkeye who asks that question. It sounds a bit stupid, seeing how there are still big parts of Wades battered body that are slowly healing, but it is a nice sentiment._ _

__“Not dead.”_ _

__Peter sniffles and puts himself against his soulmates side. And when had he crawled on the bed? The heavy arm around his shoulders lets him decide that he doesn't care that much. Because he feels save, and warm. And _right_._ _

__“Not that I don't appreciate the peanut-gallery, but me and Spidey are having a moment here, so kindly fuck off? - oow.”_ _

__He should probably not hit a injured man, so Peter settles for pinching some tender spot of skin, before he tugs his head under Wades chin and just listens. There is a steady heartbeat besides his ear. Maybe the Merc is not fully beck to health yet, but he is alive. Thinking that - _being able to think that_ \- chokes him up a little. _ _

__Finally Pepper ushers the Avengers out of the room. Wade practically melts into the clean part of the pillow with a long grown that sounds pained enough to make the younger man rise his head and look at his soulmate. There are still a worryingly amount of wounds, a few of which are still bleeding. Others are already healed shut and fading. Peter is just glade to notice that the bigger injuries are healing first and it might be save to assume that most of the internal damage is already taken care of._ _

__“How do you feel?”_ _

__In a tender cares Peter rubs his thumb over the older mans cheek, just shy from touching the still tender marks the wire had left. Wade leans into it._ _

__“Like a rat with nuclear poisoning.”_ _

___That got heckled up by a half dead cat._ _ _

__Peter has to rise an eyebrow._ _

__“How weirdly specific.”_ _

__And what is it saying about his own mental health, that he would take any stupid comment because it meant Wade was okay. Insane boxes still there and functioning. Bill and Bob are both snickering, but they seam calm for the moment. It's a bit to abstract to imagine how the imaginary voices had experienced Deadpools temporary blink out of existence, but it sure as hell could not have been pleasant._ _

__“Babyboy.”_ _

__Wades raw voice gets him away from that train of thoughts and Peter looks up. He is met with a warm look from that impressive, emotional blue eyes, mixed with some excited humming from both boxes ( _Spidey_ **Peterpeter** _Peter_ **ours** _OURS_ )._ _

__“Yes.”, Wade breaths. “Ours.”_ _

__What else is there to do then to lean up to press their foreheads together and hold on?_ _

__Peter knows that he will never let go of this man._ _

__His other half._ _

__His _ **Soulmate**__ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking this journey with me.  
> Thank you for all your Love, Comments, Kudos and Bookmarks.  
> You made this story possible.  
> Please let me know what you think or come by on [Tumblr](http://klayr-de-gall.tumblr.com/) and tell me!
> 
> There will be a follow-up one-shot for that story. So stay tuned! <3


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